


From Darkness Comes Light

by BreeTaylor



Category: Warcraft (2016)
Genre: Abuse, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, M/M, Past Abuse, Pre-War, Sexual Abuse, Slow Build, and the kirin tor are assholes, basically everyone is alive, mute!Khadgar, protective!Lothar
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-09
Updated: 2016-10-18
Packaged: 2018-07-22 11:43:32
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 12
Words: 48,215
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7436712
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BreeTaylor/pseuds/BreeTaylor
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>To leave the most prestigious society of mages, one was expected to make a fitting sacrifice. The words that he spoke to renounce his vows would be the last to ever leave his lips. Because without his voice, he would no longer be able to use is magic. </i>
</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>  <i>To leave the Kirin Tor, Khadgar had to give up the biggest part of himself. </i></p><p> </p><p>Just when things seemed to hit their worst, a mysterious stranger came to save him from the hell he was living.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Khadgar often wondered in his years with the Kirin Tor why no one left. Unhappiness wasn't scarce amongst the mages in training, and few wished for the life of solitude that awaited them. Even the apprentices weren't bound to the organization by anything but honour. They could renounce their vows if ever their heart desired, yet none did. Khadgar couldn't understand. He knew from a young age that he wanted more out of life than what the Kirin Tor would provide him, and often dreamed of life outside, in Azeroth. It was a miracle he made it as long as he did before he stepped up in front of everyone and renounced his vows. It was only then that Khadgar realized what that meant; what the punishment was.

He had been stupid to think that leaving wouldn't come with a cost. To leave the most prestigious society of mages, one was expected to make a fitting sacrifice. The words that he spoke to renounce his vows would be the last to ever leave his lips. Because without his voice, he would no longer be able to use is magic.

To leave the Kirin Tor, Khadgar had to give up the biggest part of himself.

 

_—One year later—_

Life after leaving the Kirin Tor was far from easy. Khadgar ran to the only place that provide any hope, the place famous for providing opportunities—Stormwind. When he got there, nothing was as he expected. Khadgar found himself disappointed and outcast. He searched desperately for work, anything to keep himself fed and off the streets, but no one would take him. No one wanted a mute, never mind a useless kid with virtually no experience in anything that didn't involve a book and a quill.

What little money he had didn’t last, and before long he found himself nothing more than a beggar on the street. He was a far cry from the promising young mage he had once been. He was certain that now, even if he could speak, he would be too weak to access the arcane. That part of him was truly gone.

Everything in his life became about survival. Khadgar struggled to make it from one day to the next, never knowing from where, or when, his next meal would come. Or, if the chill of he night would finally be too much for his frail body to bear. It wasn't uncommon that the food he would get would be picked out of piles of garbage, scraps that those fortunate enough to have the money to eat deemed not worth their time.

Sadly, food and shelter were not all that Khadgar had to worry about. Sometimes he found himself in the company of men so far gone on drink that he would be able to smell the booze before they came into sight. Those nights made Khadgar’s skin crawl, his heart pounding violently in his chest as he squeezed his eyes closed and waited for their abuse to end.

They took such pleasure in his pain, knowing that he would never cry for help, though never understanding why. Still, they were careful not to do too much damage, never more than heavy bruising. But their visits quickly gained frequency, and before long they were back too often for Khadgar’s body to have any chance at healing. Slowly, Khadgar became glad he didn't have the opportunity to bathe, even the thought of what his skin must look like under his tattered robes was enough to make him shudder.

There were many times he wished he could give up, many times he wondered if it would be better to return to the Kirin Tor and admit his weakness. On his worst days, he wondered if it would make more sense for him to just not continue his struggle to survive; to finally welcome the dark sleep. But Khadgar was too proud to allow himself that, and far too proud to run back to the place he so desperately wanted to leave. He wouldn't go back and give them the pleasure of knowing they were right when they told him he could never survive on his own.

No, Khadgar would keep struggling, keep surviving, because that was all he knew how to do anymore.

* * *

Andiun Lothar liked to think that he knew Stormwind inside and out. He liked to think that nothing could go on without him finding out eventually. He liked to think that he kept Stormwind a good, safe, place to live. He was the Lion of Azeroth, and he wanted to believe he kept good on the name. As far as he was aware, he was loved widely and strongly. He was a man of the people! So to say he was shocked to glance down an alleyway and see a man—no, a _shadow_ of what was once a man—crumpled and unmoving… It would be an understatement.

Lothar tried not to think too much about the ‘how’s and ‘why’s as he rushed to the man’s side, crouching next to his prone form. Lothar let out a sigh of relief when he noted the gentle rise and fall of breathing. He placed a hand on his shoulder, and the man in question woke with a start, head whipping around to face him. His eyes were wide with fear, and Lothar tried not to think about why that would be.

“It’s okay,” he said quietly. “I'm not going to hurt you.” The man, who looked far too young to have such unhappiness in his eyes, nodded slowly. Lothar helped him into a sitting position, never breaking the eye contact they held. “Do you have somewhere to go—a home?” He asked, needing confirmation despite the sickening feeling in his gut. His heart fell as the young man shook his head.

“Are you new to Stormwind?” Lothar asked, though again he knew what the answer would be. He felt sick. How had this poor kid gotten this bad without Lothar knowing? How had the citizens of Stormwind managed to ignore him long enough for his cheeks to sink with hunger, and his eyes to glaze over with defeat?

“I’m going to get you help,” Lothar said quietly, but the kid was already drifting back to sleep. With a heavy heart, and anger growing in his gut, Lothar lifted the kid into his arms and made his way towards the castle. He glared at the patrons of Old Town as he walked through, and most had the decency to show shame in their neglectfulness, confirming that the kid’s presence was known—and ignored.

* * *

When Khadgar woke, he was sure he was dead. He was laying on what had to be a bed—far more comfortable than anything he'd experienced in a long while. On top of that, he was warm and it was quiet. He didn't want to open his eyes. He had to be dead. But open his eyes he did, one at a time. He blinked against the brightness, his eyes adjusting to the sunlight streaming in through a window across from him. He glanced around his surroundings, noticing that he was definitely in someone’s chambers, somewhere. If he had to guess, the room was unoccupied. There was a desk and a wardrobe, but nothing to indicate this was someone's home.

Finally, his eyes landed on the man currently asleep in a very uncomfortable looking chair next to him. Khadgar had to rub at his tired eyes. He had thought that the night prior had been a dream. That his savior was nothing more than a figment of his imagination, but there he was. Sleeping peacefully next to the bed. Khadgar tried to hold back the tears stinging his eyes as he realized that finally— _finally!—_ someone had found him.

When he was sure he was calm enough to not make a fool of himself in front of the man, Khadgar reached out to touch his arm gently. The man woke with a start, and Khadgar couldn't help but flinch. His face filled with pity almost instantly as he scooted forward, closer, and stared into Khadgar’s eyes. “I’m sorry, I didn't mean to startle you,” Khadgar shook his head quickly, trying to tell him it was fine. “

“My name is Anduin Lothar,” he said, running a hand through his longer hair. “I would like to apologize, on behalf of Stormwind, for the obvious mistreatment you've faced during your time here. I want you to know that you're safe now, and healers are coming to tend to your wounds. Are you hungry?”

Khadgar nodded apprehensively, watching Lothar excuse himself from the room, unsure of why he was getting such treatment. Wouldn't it be beneficial for Lothar to just have him removed from the city? Yet he had _apologized…_ Khadgar didn't know what to feel. When Lothar came back, he was carrying a large tray of steaming food. Khadgar heard his stomach grumble loudly at the sight. It'd been so long since he'd had a proper meal, yet when Lothar placed the tray in his lap, he found himself frozen.

“It's okay,” Lothar assured, “Please, eat. It'll help you regain your strength.”

Khadgar nodded and gingerly lifted a piece of toasted bread from the plate. He forced himself to remain civil, taking a small bite despite the absolutely intoxicating smell. His eyes closed involuntarily as he chewed, a lewd moan escaping his lips as his taste-buds reacted to the first non-garbage food he'd eaten in nearly a year. He could feel the blush on his cheeks as his eyes moved to Lothar, but the man in question was looking at him with a fond smile.

“Enjoy the food,” Lothar said. “I have to go take care of some things in the barracks, but I'll be back once the healers have finished with you.”

Khadgar nodded and, not for the first time, wished he could voice his thanks. Instead, he watched Lothar’s receding back and once again tried to reel in the emotions threatening to spill.

* * *

The healers arrived shortly after Khadgar had finished his meal, the plate almost licked clean. It was a group of four women, who immediately asked him to strip down upon entering the room. He couldn't stop himself from blushing at the act as he stood and quickly undressed himself. It was made worse by the gasps from the women at the sight of him. Khadgar stared straight ahead, trying to resist the urge to look himself over as he was guided back onto the bed.

He allowed himself a glance as they got to work, and felt his stomach flip. It was worse than he'd expected. Most of his skin was covered in varying shades of purple, blue, and black. If he had to guess, his right ankle was broken, the skin worse than everywhere else and twice the size of his left. He had to close his eyes, trying not to relive the events that led to the bruises and breaks. It wasn't until one of the women gasped, her hands on his left arm, that Khadgar realized just what he'd exposed.

His eyes flew open as he grabbed the woman’s wrist, eyes pleading her not to say anything. To his amazement, she nodded. The women finished up their work, and the one who had seen his mark stayed behind. “I'll show him where the baths are,” she told the others, who simply nodded and left the room. Khadgar pulled on his tattered robes, and for the first time his movements didn't cause him pain.

“You're from the Kirin Tor,” the woman said finally, more of a statement than a question. Khadgar shook his head sadly. “What do you mean, no? You have the mark!”

He shook his head again, and touched his throat. Her eyes went wide with understanding. “You're _him_ , aren't you? The one who left—the one who _renounced.”_ Khadgar nodded.

“The rumours said you had to give up your voice but I… I never thought they would be that cruel,” she touched his arm gently, “I am so sorry for your loss, Khadgar.”

It was so strange to hear his name after so long, he found himself frozen. It wasn't until she tugged his sleeve gently and led him from he room that he managed to make his limbs work. As they moved through the castle (Khadgar was trying not to think about why he was in the _castle_ —one problem at a time), he couldn't help but marvel that the knowledge of his choice had made it as far as Stormwind. That people knew his name.

* * *

Lothar couldn't focus. He couldn't keep his mind off the young kid, couldn't get the image of pain in his eyes out of his mind. He tried to lead training, to delegate his solders, but too often found himself drifting into thought as he wondered what was going on; if the healers had gotten there, if he was okay.

After a couple hours, he dismissed the soldiers for a break with a heavy sigh. Callan made his way over, concern laced in his brow. “Where’s your head today?”

“I found someone, can't be much older than you, a step away from death in an ally in Old Town last night on my way back from patrol,” he told his son. “I can't believe that no one reported it.”

“It's not exactly uncommon for the homeless to go unreported, dad,” Callan said. “Stormwind is grand, we get many visitors who hope for easy living that cannot be provided.”

Lothar shook his head, “You don't understand. You didn't see him. There's a difference between homeless and nearly dead. I don't know what happened to the kid, but damn if I won't find out.”

Callan sighed, but he knew his father. He knew better than to try and change his mind once he'd decided something. “Why don't you go tend to him?” He asked after a moment. “I can finish training, and I've listened to you delegate jobs for almost my whole life.”

“No,” Lothar shook his head, “to leave my duties would be irresponsible.”

“To stay isn't much better,” Callan argued. “You're too engrossed in your mind to be of any use today, and it's quite obvious that isn't going to change until you figure out what happened to that kid. So go.”

“Callan—”

“No, dad. Go, or I'll call for Aunt Taria.”

Lothar groaned, but nodded. His son was just as stubborn as him, and the last thing he needed was his sister meddling. At least, not until he knew better what was going on. He moved quickly, pulling off his armour in a hurry before making his way to the castle and seeking the healers.

He found them in the chapel, as usual, but the looks on their faces on his arrival made his stomach drop. “What is it?” He asked. “Were you able to tend to his wounds?”

“Yes,” the eldest of the three pulled him aside, lowering her voice to a whisper, “but where did you find him, Lothar? His wounds…” She closed her eyes, “they were severe. Layers of dark bruises, broken bones… He wasn't just malnourished, he looked as if he'd been beaten.”

Lothar squeezed his hands into fists, trying to contain his anger. “I'll get to the bottom of it,” he said darkly. “And the boy?”

“Ariadne took him to the baths, he should be resting now.”

“Good.”

“I hope you find whoever is responsible,” she said as he turned to leave. Lothar had no doubts that he would find whoever responsible. He just hoped he'd manage to contain his anger when that day came.

* * *

Khadgar was supposed to be sleeping. He had strict instructions from the healers to get lots of bed rest, but he hadn't felt so good since he arrived in Stormwind. The aches of pain and hunger were gone, his body was clean, and his clothes warm and soft, his torn garments he'd worn the past year thrown away. The last thing Khadgar wanted to do was sleep. Now that he was better, he was sure he'd be discharged, told to be on his way. He wanted to enjoy the comfort he felt before returning to the streets.

Now that he was fed and healed, Khadgar found himself able to think straight. He could even feel magic pumping in his veins, but he tried desperately to ignore it. He knew that he couldn't stay in Stormwind. He couldn't continue as he had been, couldn't let himself be taken advantage of by those men… Those _monsters_ anymore. No, it was time for him to move on. To keep moving until he found somewhere that would take him; somewhere he could make enough money to get by.

But Khadgar was unfamiliar with the area. He didn't know how to get to the nearest town, or how far a journey it was. He would have to go on foot, and that meant he wouldn't have time for wrong turns. He paced the room quietly, biting at his bottom lip. If he could just access maps… A though popped into his head, but it was dangerous. He was being held in the castle, but Khadgar had a feeling it wasn't an invitation to explore.

Still, what could they do? Throw him in a cell, maybe, but a cell was better than the streets. If he planned it right, he could be gone before anyone noticed. It was dangerous, maybe, but what option did he have, really? So despite his pounding heart, Khadgar pulled open the door to the room, and peaked up and down the corridor. There were no guards at the moment, and he knew it was his chance to move. So with one last, deep breath he started his mission.

Khadgar tried to remember his time with the Kirin Tor; how he held himself as he walked through the corridors of his old home. If he looked as if he belonged, there was less chance he would be stopped. So he squared his shoulders and held his head high, drawing as little attention to himself as was possible. He just had to find the library.

It probably wouldn't look great for Khadgar if a guard did get suspicious and decided to follow him, considering he was almost certain he'd been down the same corridor three times. Who would've figured the castle would be such a maze? But just as he was starting to give up hope, he took a corner he could've sworn he'd been down before, and found himself directly in front of an open door that lead to a room full of books. Khadgar couldn't stop the small gasp that escaped his lips. It'd been so long since he'd seen so many books, his fingers itched to skim their pages and absorb their knowledge. His feet worked on autopilot, moving him forward into the room.

He glanced around once inside, glad to find himself seemingly alone. He could see a pile of maps to his right, but… Khadgar glanced at one of the towering bookshelves, heart jumping with longing. Just _one_ book wouldn't do any harm…

* * *

The kid was not in his room, as he was supposed to be. Lothar felt his heart drop when he opened the door to find the bed untouched, and the kid nowhere in sight. He turned to the guard, who looked just as shocked. “I told you to watch him.”

“He must've left when we switched guards…”

Lothar stared at the man, unable to even process his incompetence. Instead, he shoved his way out of the room and broke into a run down the hall. He would deal with his guards later. For all he knew, the kid was already long gone.

“Lothar?” An all too familiar voice rang out behind him, forcing him to stop.

“I don't have time right now, Taria.”

“What are you even doing?”

“Looking for someone.”

Taria raised an eyebrow, “Would that happen to be the guest that you failed to inform me or Llane about?”

“I was going to, once I dealt with his injuries,” Lothar sighed, “Not that it matters now, he's probably half way to Goldshire.”

Taria hummed, “We need to talk about this, Anduin.”

“Yeah, I know.”

“I believe I saw an unfamiliar face heading towards the library.”

It took Lothar a minute to process what she was saying before he bolted in the opposite direction. He would never understand how his sister seemed to know everything, but by the light for once he was glad of her ability. He got to the library in record time, and sure enough the kid in question had his nose buried deep in a book.

“If you wanted to come to the library, you only needed to ask,” he said, mentally chiding himself for not making his arrival louder when the kid jumped. He looked up at Lothar apologetically, and the fear in those eyes pulled at Lothar's heart. “It's okay, kid. You're not in trouble.”

He sat down across from him and tried not to pay too much attention to the rigidness the kid’s posture. Before Lothar had announced his arrival, he had looked different. Peaceful, almost. “I never asked, what's your name?”

The kid stared at him, eyes wide with panic. Lothar didn't understand. “You're not in trouble, I promise,” Lothar tried. Still, the kid shook his head. One of his hands moved idly to his throat, and something clicked. “Are you… Do you speak?”

He shook his head again, and Lothar nodded in understanding. He grabbed some parchment and a quill from he desk behind him, sliding them across the table, “If you can read, I assume you know how to write?”

* * *

Khadgar stared at the parchment in front of him. Of course he knew how to write, but what if Lothar connected his name to the boy who left the Kirin Tor? Ariadne had known his name, that meant at least some did. Still, Lothar was looking at him so expectantly, and he'd been nothing but kind since he'd found Khadgar, so he pulled the parchment towards himself and scrawled his name on the top before passing it back to the older man.

“Khadgar?” He waited for recognition, fear, laughter… But Lothar just smiled. “It's nice to finally meet you, Khadgar. Are you feeling any better?”

He nodded quickly, even allowing himself a small smile. He wished he could better explain his gratitude. Lothar returned the smile, but his was twice as bright. “I'm glad to hear that. Though I am going to request that you remain here, in the castle, for a while longer.”

Khadgar shook his head quickly. He couldn't… The idea was ridiculous. “I have to insist, Khadgar. The healers told me of the severity of your wounds. It was obvious to them that someone hurt you. Is that true?”

Khadgar swallowed around the lump in his throat. His mind flashed back to the nights of abuse, to the things whispered into his ear. He couldn't stop the shudder than ran down his spine, and though he was sure that was answer enough for Lothar, he nodded. The man looked furious, though Khadgar couldn't understand why. “Do you remember them?” He asked.

Remember them? Khadgar would never be able to forget their faces, even cloaked by darkness. They haunted his dreams. He couldn't walk down the street without looking for them, feeling as if they were watching them. But he couldn't say any of that, couldn't tell Lothar any of it. So he nodded.

“I'm going to find them. _We're_ going to find them. And when we do, they will play for what they did.”

Khadgar pulled the parchment back towards himself, scribbling one word on the surface before pushing it back towards Lothar. “ _Why?”_ Lothar read, he stared at Khadgar, brow furrowed and confusion clear in his features, “What do you mean, _why_?”

Khadgar frowned, hastily explaining himself in writing and wishing desperately for the ability to speak his mind. _I'm not worth the time_ , he wrote. _I deserved it._

Lothar grabbed his wrist, almost before he finished the word. His grip was rough, and Khadgar couldn't help but flinch, but he didn't let go. He stared darkly into Khadgar's eyes, his own fiery with anger. “Don't you dare say that about yourself,” he said. His voice was deep, and serious. “You didn't deserve it. _No one_ deserves what you went through.”

Khadgar wished he could believe him.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings for mentions of rape. Nothing incredibly specific, but it's there.

All Khadgar wanted to do was blend in until Lothar allowed him to leave. If allowed, he would spend all day in the room they provided, or the library if given permission. He was learning, however, that Lothar was quite stubborn, and he seemed determined that Khadgar accompany him on his day.

Which started with breakfast with the King and Queen. They weren't the only people there, the table sat twelve and each seat was filled, but they might as well have been. Khadgar couldn't stop staring, couldn't stop the self-conscious shake in his hands as he tried to eat. Not that he felt particularly hungry with everyone's gaze on him.

“Your name is Khadgar, is it not?” The King asked, the direct address making him jump. He nodded quickly and noticed the disappointed looks in the other nobles at the informal answer. The King seemed hesitant, if not concerned, but by some miracle the Queen stepped in with a gentle hand on his arm, and a reassuring smile sent Khadgar’s way.

“We're glad to have you as our guest,” she said, and with that the conversation moved on. He could feel Lothar’s gaze on him, the same damn concern that always seemed to be present when Khadgar was involved. He felt like a child under that gaze, and wished not for the first time that he could tell Lothar that, despite the condition he was found in, he _wasn't_ weak.

The man’s intentions were pure, as far as Khadgar could tell, but he really didn't want to cause this much trouble. He wanted to leave Stormwind and move on, not relive the past by searching for his tormentors. The last thing he wanted to do now that he felt better was to find them. But, again, Lothar was stubborn.

“You're basically skin and bones,” he had said after their… Altercation in the library. “I told you when I found you that I would see you back to health, and I plan to do just that.”

So stuck in Lothar’s ever-cautious gaze he was.

* * *

When Khadgar walked into the dining hall alongside his father, Callan realized exactly why the beggar had been a cause of such concern. He looked frail, and starved, but as much as his father would say his concerns were pure, Callan knew him. He'd grown up watching his father unknowingly get sucked into things by pretty faces and wide eyes, just like the ones on their new guest.

He knew his father didn't do it on purpose. He wasn't vain; he truly did care for the inhabitants of Stormwind. He just… He tended to care more, get more personally involved, when his subconscious recognized a pretty face. Khadgar was just his fathers type, Callan noted, if not a bit sickly at the moment. Then again, that would just make things worse. Activate his father’s overprotective side.

A glance at Aunt Taria told him she noticed it, too, but her knowing gaze was far more soft and teasing. She didn't have to live with it for years, though. Callan just hoped that this Khadgar would work out better than the last poor soul his father had tried to help. The last thing he needed was for him to spend another fortnight moping around the barracks.

* * *

Lothar tried to ignore how uncomfortable Khadgar looked as they made with their way through the day. He was trying to do everything in his power to make sure he was comfortable, but he was hoping if the kid accompanied him on his patrol he might recognize someone. _Anyone_ , really, just to give Lothar a start. But Khadgar barely looked up from the cobblestone below their feet as they walked. If Lothar had to guess, he was probably trying to make himself as small as possible so he wouldn't be noticed.

“I'm not going to let anyone hurt you, Khadgar,” he said after a while. “You don't have to be afraid of them anymore.”

Khadgar gave him a look that said he wasn’t afraid, and Lothar was pretty sure it was the first time he’d seen the kid look so sure of himself. There was no caution in his eyes, or fear, but rather a strong determination. Lothar wasn’t expecting it, and it shocked him, but his heart skipped at the look. Because that look meant that Khadgar wasn’t always the nervous and broken man that he was now.

Lothar wanted to see more of this Khadgar.

Not for the first time, he wished he could start a conversation, get to know the kid better. He didn’t know what made Khadgar chose to stop speaking, but Lothar knew he couldn’t press it. He respected his choice, but it didn’t make their patrol any easier. Or less boring. To fill the dead air, Lothar started telling him about Stormwind. The history more commonly known, and the things he’d come to learn about it during his time as Commander.

There was a moment of worry that he was annoying Khadgar, or boring him, but when he glanced in his direction he found only interest in his eyes. Lothar couldn’t help but smile. “If you don’t mind me asking, how long have you been in Stormwind?” He questioned, quickly adding, “You can just hold up fingers.”

Khadgar nodded, and held up one. “One month?” Lothar asked, but Khadgar shook his head sadly.

“One year?” Lothar confirmed, his heart dropping when there was a nod. “And… was it always as bad as when I found you?”

Khadgar shook his head, but his answer didn’t really matter. The pain had returned to his eyes, and Lothar hated that he was the cause. He wanted to see something other than pain. If he could be so lucky, he would love to see Khadgar smile. So he abruptly changed the subject. “About time for a break, don’t you think?” He asked. “Why don’t we go to my favorite pub for a pint and some good food?”

Khadgar shook his head quickly, eyes wide. “Please, Khadgar. Let me treat you to a meal; it’s the least I can do.”

Again, Khadgar shook his head. He stopped walking, and Lothar could see him trying to gage the easiest way back to the castle. Before he could move, Lothar grabbed his wrist. He was gentle enough not to hurt him, but firm enough to hold him still. “Please don’t make me order you to accompany me. I really don’t like abusing my authority, but I will.”

Khadgar frowned, and sighed, but motioned for Lothar to lead the way.

* * *

The last thing he wanted to do was go to a pub. He had no money to offer, and he was already enough trouble for Lothar. Khadgar may be a beggar now, but he’d always hated handouts. He wanted to provide for himself, not rely on others for support. But Lothar was stubborn as always. Khadgar had to stop himself from scoffing as he played the authority card, he was ridiculous, honestly.

He allowed himself to be led through the streets, by the wrist no less, until he was back in the familiarity of Old Town. Khadgar swallowed around the lump in his throat, memories of cold nights and hot breaths flashing in front of his eyes. Maybe it was good Lothar had a grip on him.

_“Well, well, well,”_ _a dark voice said from the front of the ally, “who do we have here?”_

_Khadgar tried to disappear into the shadows, the darkness. He wanted to—to cease existing. Anything to get away from the familiar voice. But he couldn’t disappear, not anymore, and heavy footsteps were getting closer. Khadgar’s skin crawled at the smell of the man—booze and sweat. Familiar, awful,_ painful _._

_“How is my favorite little toy?” The man asked, crouching down to lift Khadgar’s chin. He was embarrassed of the tears already welling in his eyes, “Did you miss me, little lamb?”_

_Khadgar wanted to push him off and run, but he knew better than to try it. He was too weak, too malnourished, to overpower the man. Running, fighting, just made the situation worse. If he… cooperated, bared the torture, it would be over faster._

“I’m telling you, Khadgar,” Lothar’s voice brought him back to the present, eyes quickly blinking away unshed tears, “this is the hidden gem of Stormwind. They make the best stew.”

He tried to focus on Lothar. On his voice, on the feel of his fingers wrapped around Khadgar’s wrist. They were rough from a lifetime of wielding a sword, but his grip was soft and almost comforting. He tried to focus on the present, but the past was too daunting. The memories too easily grabbed him in their shadowy grip.

_He wanted to scream. He wanted to call for help, to do anything to stop what was happening. To get the heavy weight off his back, the rotten breath out of his hair, the disgusting grunts far away from his ears. He had hoped,_ prayed _for it to get easier, but it never did. Save the first time, each visit was just as awful. The man was rough, his fingers leaving bruises on Khadgar’s arms and neck that would barely have time to heal before he returned. It would be days before he could comfortably sit._

_Khadgar had stopped trying to hide the tears many visits ago. He stopped caring that the man could see his weakness because, as he quickly learned, it didn’t matter how strong of a face he put on. The man would never stop; never go away. So Khadgar let himself cry, silent sobs falling on deaf ears._

“Khadgar?” Again, Lothar pulled him back. This time with a hand on his shoulder as he released his wrist. “You alright?”

Khadgar nodded, looking away from Lothar’s gaze, instead focusing intently on reading the sign of the pub they were standing outside of. The _Pig and Whistle Tavern_. Khadgar had gotten many of his meals from their garbage, and many of his tormentors came from the warmth Khadgar was always forbidden from entering. He could feel Lothar’s gaze on him, though, and the last thing he wanted to do was seem weak. So with one last, deep breath he walked through the door.

“Oi!” The barmaid said almost instantly, “I’ve told you time and time again, beggar, you’re not welcome here!”

Khadgar stumbled backwards. He had thought he would be unrecognizable, _safe_ , in the new robes Lothar had provided. He didn’t expect her to notice, but the fact she did… Khadgar felt himself blush in embarrassment. He turned on his heel to leave, but was blocked by Lothar. Who looked furious.

“He’s with me,” the soldier said, his voice darker than Khadgar had ever heard.

“Oh, Commander! I didn’t see you there!”

Khadgar could tell Lothar was about to make a scene, to call her out, but that was the last thing he needed to happen. He stopped him with a hand on his arm and a pleading look which, to Khadgar’s amazement, Lothar seemed to listen to. “Do you want to go somewhere else?” He asked quietly.

Khadgar shook his head quickly. That’s just what she wanted. Instead, he led Lothar up the stairs, hoping that the second level would provide more privacy. And less of a chance for unwanted visitors to show up. If Lothar was ready to arrest the barmaid on the spot, Khadgar wasn’t sure how he was going to remain level-headed with the people who had actually caused pain.

They sat in silence for a while, Lothar obviously still steaming and Khadgar… well, he couldn’t fix it if he wanted to. It wasn’t until the barmaid showed up, looking rightfully sheepish, to ask for their order that Lothar snapped out of his thoughts. He ordered himself a pint and the stew, and then she turned to Khadgar.

“And… for you?” She asked, looking as if it physically pained her.

“He’ll have the same.” Lothar watched her leave over Khadgar’s shoulder, eyes narrowed and filled with disgust. When he was sure she was gone, he finally turned his attention back to Khadgar, shaking his head with disappointment. “I can’t… The audacity of that woman.”

Khadgar shrugged. He couldn’t blame her, really. As far as she was aware, he had no money to spend. She’d caught him searching through scraps often enough to know that. As far as she had been aware, Khadgar had finally snapped and decided to try begging _inside_ the shops. But Lothar didn’t seem to see it that way.

“Stormwind is supposed to be respectable—the City of Hope. I would expect its citizens to be kinder to those in need, to offer help when available.” Khadgar couldn’t help but scoff. Spoken like a true noble. Lothar frowned deeply, and abruptly stood from the table. When he returned, it was with parchment and quill in hand. “I’m tired of not knowing what’s going on in that mind of yours.”

Khadgar rolled his eyes, but accepted the offered materials. _Have you ever thought that maybe the citizens of Stormwind just don’t have anything to give?_

“I…” Lothar furrowed his brow, “Surely some have a little.”

_Maybe, but many don’t. Life isn’t easy for anyone._

“Of course it isn’t.”

_You can’t blame them for the suffering of others, Lothar._

“I can’t?” He scoffed. “They left you to die, Khadgar. It’s one thing to be unable to provide food or shelter, it’s another to ignore someone starving in an ally. To ignore someone who has been—is being—beaten and abused. I think it’s perfectly reasonable for me to blame them for your suffering, because any of them could’ve gone to the guards and reported it.”

Khadgar was shocked by the intensity in Lothar’s eyes, by the seriousness in his voice. He held Stormwind to such high regards, Khadgar couldn’t imagine what it was like to have that image shattered by reality. _I apologize._

“Don’t,” Lothar said firmly. “You don’t have to apologize for anything, you’ve done nothing wrong.”

Oh, if only he knew.

* * *

By the time Lothar finally let him out of his sights, the sun was retreating from the sky and Khadgar was _exhausted._ They hadn’t done anything necessarily tiring, but the constant panic that he would run into one of the men mentally drained him. He was just glad the only problem they had encountered was the barmaid.

As Lothar led him back to his room after the evening meal, Khadgar wanted nothing more than to collapse into the comfortable bed and sleep until he was undoubtedly awoken the next morning. When he finally got into the room, however, he found himself surprisingly awake. He fell onto the bed with a groan, but knew that sleep wouldn’t be coming for him any time soon, no matter how desperately he wished for it.

Khadgar couldn’t help but wonder if he remembered how to get back to the library. Reading had always helped calm his mind, silence the noise that seemed ever-present. Unfortunately, when he opened the door to his room this time there was a guard standing outside. Khadgar recognized him from breakfast, though he couldn’t remember his name. Up close it was suddenly very clear just how young the man was.

“Can I help you, Khadgar?” He asked. “I’ve been given orders to make sure no one comes in.”

_More like orders not to let me out,_ Khadgar thought, but he raised a hand to signal the man to wait a moment. Lothar had left him some parchment and a quill, ‘for emergencies,’ and he scribbled his request down quickly before handing it to the man. “You want to go to the library?” He questioned skeptically. Khadgar nodded. He looked unsure, but stepped aside after a moment, “I don’t see why that’d be a problem.”

The library was, expectedly, empty when they arrived. The guard motioned Khadgar inside, “I’ll be out here if you need me.”

It was almost as breathtaking as the first time he’d seen it. There were _so many_ books, on every subject. From combat, to history, to the dictionary of herbs. Anything anyone could possibly wish to learn could be found here. Which gave Khadgar hope. The spell that had taken his voice was just that—a spell. It could be reversed, if he could just find the right counter-spell. He didn’t want to hope; the chances of him finding such a spell were small enough, and then there was the issue of finding someone who was willing to cast it for him. But he couldn’t help the flutter of excitement. The first inklings of hope he’d had since coming to Stormwind.

Because, as small as it was, there _was_ a chance he could find the answer. There was a chance he could be saved from the curse and finally move on with his life, and because of that he knew he had to try. He _had_ to. So he grabbed every book he could find pertaining to magic, and pilled them on and around the desk in the back corner of the room. Then, he started reading.

* * *

When Lothar arrived at Khadgar’s room the next morning, he was disappointed to find his son gone, despite the direct order to stay and watch him for the night. Out of all the guards, he thought Callan would at least listen to him. Lothar stormed over to the door, knocked twice, and barged straight in. Sure enough, Khadgar was gone.

He moved through the halls of the castle with growing rage. When he found his son, they were going to have a serious talk. Once again, as always, he found himself running into his sister. “Good morning, Andiun. How are you?”

“Have you seen Callan?” He asked gruffly, not bothering to waste time on formalities.

Taria frowned, “He was outside the library the last I checked. Why, has he done something wrong?”

“The library?” Lothar asked, “What would Callan be doing in the library?”

It dawned on him then. His son had done as he was asked, Khadgar just didn’t like staying put. He muttered a quick apology to Taria and quickly excused himself, moving through the halls with practiced ease until he reached the library. Sure enough, Callan was standing watch. “Morning,” he said as Lothar approached, looking reasonably tired.

“How long has he been in there?” Lothar asked.

Callan yawned, “All night.”

“You’re dismissed, kid. Go get some sleep,” he said, ruffling Callan’s hair, much to his annoyance. After he was gone, Lothar pushed the doors to the library open. His eyes landed on Khadgar almost immediately, curled up in the corner and absolutely surrounded by books. He couldn’t stop the fond smile that spread on his face at the sight.

Lothar made his way over, trying to be as quiet as possible. Then, with a gentle hand on Khadgar’s arm, he nudged him awake. He blinked his eyes open slowly, blearily, as he readjusted to his surroundings. “Good morning, bookworm,” Lothar said quietly. “I thought I told you to go to bed last night.”

Khadgar shrugged, but the blush that spread on his cheeks showed he felt at least a little embarrassed. “So what’ve you been reading all night?” Lothar asked, picking up one of the books. Khadgar jumped up, trying to grab it from him, but that just peaked his curiosity. He held the struggling kid back with one arm, getting a good look at the book in his other hand. The title was in a language Lothar didn’t recognize, and when he opened it his eyes went wide with understanding. “Magic?”

Khadgar looked panicked, and Lothar felt his heart drop. In a fluid movement, he grabbed his left wrist. Khadgar struggled against his grip as Lothar pushed his sleeve up. “What are you doing in my city, spell-chucker?” he growled, the mark of the Kirin Tor clear on his skin. When Khadgar didn’t answer, Lothar pushed him back, pinning him roughly against the wall. “Enough of your games! What is your motive; who sent you?”

Still, Khadgar said nothing. His eyes were squeezed shut, and Lothar could feel him trembling in his grasp. He was frightened, but it made no sense. All he had to do was mutter a couple words and Lothar would be on the other side of the room. Unless…

He loosened his grip on the mage, but didn’t let him go completely. Khadgar’s eyes opened slowly, and Lothar could see unshed tears shining within them. “It’s not that you _won’t_ talk,” he said quietly, “you _can’t_ , can you?”

Slowly, Khadgar shook his head.

 


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Once again, mentions of rape for this chapter. Still nothing super explicit, but it is there.

Lothar had left the library in such a hurry, Khadgar didn’t know what he was supposed to do. He could feel himself shaking, could feel the wet tears on his cheeks. He knew it would be bad when Lothar inevitably found out that he had been a member of the Kirin Tor; their relationship with Stormwind was rocky at best. But he hadn’t expected… he never imagined such a violent response.

It was hard for him to see Lothar like that, to be shoved so roughly he felt as if he were right back in the alleyway. He had started to trust the older man, and now… now Khadgar couldn’t look into his eyes without seeing the dangerous anger that was there. For all he knew, Lothar had gone to fetch guards, or the King. For all he knew, his imprisonment was imminent. More than anything, Khadgar wished he could just _explain_.

He knew he had to leave Stormwind. He had to get out before Lothar got back, but the thought made his stomach flip. If he left, it would only make him look guiltier. No, he had to explain. He had to at least try to get a message to Lothar before he left. So Khadgar did the only thing he could; he wrote a letter.

_Lothar,_

Khadgar paused, staring down at the parchment in front of him. He wanted so badly to tell him everything, but he didn’t know where to begin. He didn’t know where to start—or end, for that matter. He gnawed on his bottom lip nervously, knowing he was running out of time. He had to continue.

_I wasn’t sent to Stormwind by the Kirin Tor, or anyone else for that matter. I came to Stormwind of my own accord—to escape. I hoped to make a life here; to get a fresh start. As I’m sure you’re aware, it wasn’t my choice to join the Kirin Tor, and I found myself disagreeing with many of their values. I knew that I had to leave, but in order to do so, I had to renounce my vows._

_I had to sacrifice my voice in order to leave, because without it I can’t access the arcane, though I believe you may have already figured as much. I was ~~unprepared~~ uninformed of the sacrifice, and… Well, you saw what my fate was upon arriving in Stormwind. I swear to you, on my life, that I had no ill intentions. The last thing I expected upon coming here was to find myself in the company of the Commander, or the King and Queen. _

_I would like to thank you for your generosity, and your kindness. I don’t know what would’ve become of me had you not found me when you did. You have given me another chance at life, and I am eternally grateful. But I cannot be anymore trouble for you. It is time for me to leave._

_Thank you, Andiun Lothar._

_Khadgar_

He stared at the letter wishing he had more of an opportunity  to change things, but knew it would only be a matter of time before Lothar returned. So with a sigh, he folded the paper, and scribbled Lothar’s name across the front. He left it on the desk and hoped that he would have no trouble finding it. With a final deep breath, Khadgar grabbed his cloak from the chair and walked briskly from the room with nothing more than the clothes on his back and a general idea of where Goldshire was. If he could get there, it would at least put some distance between them. He would figure out where to go after that.

* * *

“Llane!” Lothar shouted, barging into the quarters the King and his sister shared. At this point in the morning, he could only assume they would still be there. Sure enough, the man in question appeared from around a corner looking confused and only slightly annoyed.

“Andiun? What are you doing here at this hour?” He asked. “Why didn’t you knock?”

“You need to summon Medivh.”

“What?” Llane’s eyes went wide. “Has there been a declaration of war? What happened?”

“No,” Lothar shook his head, “no it’s nothing like that. Khadgar he’s—he _was_ part of the Kirin Tor.”

“They sent a mage to—”

“No!” He interrupted quickly, “Khadgar left. He renounced his vows and ran, but they stole his voice.”

Llane frowned, “They… what?” 

“I don’t know why, or how, but if anyone can fix it, it’s Medivh.”

“Andiun, we can’t just call upon the Guardian for such a mundane task. He is only to be summoned in times of great need and emergency.”

“ _Mundane task_?” Lothar questioned, “Llane, we’re talking about someone who had his voice stolen! You saw the kid—he was almost dead when I found him! He can’t survive without a voice.”

“I’m sorry, Lothar,” Llane said, his tone that of a King, not a friend. “We can’t summon the Guardian just because one runaway mage lost his voice, no matter how much you seem to care about him. We have to think about Stormwind; we can’t be selfish.”

Lothar knew he was right, and that he would never intentionally bring harm to someone, but at the moment none of that mattered. If Lothar didn't do _something_ Khadgar would be doomed to return to the life he had before—he couldn't stay in the castle forever, Lothar knew that, and he couldn't find work with his ailment. Lothar could help him back to health, but without his voice it would all be for nothing.

He gave Llane one more pleading look, which was returned with one of pity, before bolting from the room and back in the direction of the library. If Llane wouldn't help, they would have to figure it out themselves. Lothar had considered Medivh a friend once, maybe he could ask a favour. But none of it mattered, because when he returned to the library, Khadgar was gone.

“Damnit!” He shouted into the room, slamming his hand down on the desk the mage  had occupied. It was then he noticed a piece of folded parchment with his name written elegantly across it. His heart jumped, but as he scanned the words his hope was lost. Khadgar had left, as Lothar had suspected. He had no idea how long ago the man had left, or to which direction he was headed. He had nothing, and Khadgar was gone. Once again left to try to fend for himself in a world that would provide him with no aid.

“Andiun?” Taria’s voice rang out in the library, laced with concern, “Is everything alright?”

“He’s gone,” Lothar sighed. “Khadgar was part of the Kirin Tor…”

“I know.”

He scoffed, “So you heard Llane and I arguing, then?”

“No,” Taria shook her head slowly, “I had heard about the mage that renounced his vows, I didn't remember the name at first but when I saw him I knew it had to be the same man.”

“Why didn't you say anything?” Lothar demanded. “If I would've known sooner I could've helped, we may not be in this situation!”

“It wasn't my secret to tell, Andiun,” Taria said firmly. “To leave the Kirin Tor is a great disgrace, both for Khadgar and the family he left behind. He is doomed to live the rest of his life as an outcast, with or without his voice.”

“What, so I should give up on him, then? Is that what you're saying?”

“No. Khadgar needs someone to believe in him; someone who will be able to look past everything he surely regrets. But you have to be serious, brother. It can't be some petty affection, that poor mage has to walk through the rest of his life with a heavy burden on his shoulders. If you wish to help him, your intentions have to be pure,” she stepped forward, gently resting her hand on his arm. “You cannot try to help him for selfish reasons, I'm afraid his heart can't take much more disappointment or rejection.”

Lothar smiled sadly at her, “You've always been so wise, but I promise you my intentions are true. I may have rescued him out of pity, but over the past couple of days I've come to enjoy his presence. Even without hearing him speak, I can tell he carries a vast amount of knowledge. I want to help him, because he deserves a chance at greatness. Because I don't  doubt he could achieve amazing things if given the opportunity.”

“In that case, I suggest you get packing,” she smiled. “You'll find him in Goldshire.”

“How do you know?”

“Because, Andiun, I am observant,” she walked over to another table in the library, one filled with maps. Sure enough, the one on top was of Elwynn Forest. Goldshire would be the best bet.

* * *

Khadgar realized, as he reached the _Lion’s Pride Inn_ , that he had no plan whatsoever. He still had no money, no food, nothing to offer. If anything, his situation was worse than when he first arrived in Stormwind. He knew Goldshire wasn't his final destination, but he would still have to spend at least a night in the small town. Elwynn Forest was a dangerous place during the day if you strayed off the path, he didn't want to try and navigate that in the darkness.

But unlike Stormwind, there were not many places for him to hide. The town only consisted of an inn and a blacksmith’s shop—and as he stood in the centre of town he realized with a growing panic that he had no where to go. Despite its small size, the town bustled around him, no one sparing him as much as a glance. With a sigh, he moved around to the side of the inn, and seated himself in the grass.

He just had to make it through one night, then he would move on. He could just spend the night trying to come up with some sort of plan. Anything would be better than the poorly thought out, albeit last minute, decision to run to Goldshire. Khadgar knew, without a doubt, he needed to figure something out.

The night was far from quiet. From the sounds of things, the _Lion’s Pride Inn_ was packed with drinking men. It was one of Khadgar’s least favourite noises. He tried to focus on coming up with a plan of action, but every time someone would stumble out of the pub—the noise getting momentarily louder as the door opened—he would tense. Too many nights stumbling men would find their way to him, to take out their frustrations in one way or another. Humans, Khadgar realized quickly, were cruel.

Part of him, a foolishly optimistic part, thought maybe Goldshire would be different—safer somehow. But all his fears came to light when one figure paused, and his head turned in Khadgar’s direction. His heart dropped into his stomach almost instantly as the man turned on his heel, heading not back towards Stormwind, but now towards Khadgar.

“Hello, there,” he said, and his voice was like venom. “Haven't seen you around here before.”

Khadgar shook his head quickly, scrambling to his feet and willing the man to go away. Instead, he moved quickly, pinning Khadgar to the side of the inn. He squeezed his eyes shut, wishing he was anywhere else as the man’s hands roamed his body, each touch leaving him feeling dirty and disgusting. “You've got a pretty face, for a boy. Not that it really matters; a hole is a hole.”

Khadgar wanted to puke. He'd gotten a mere three days of grace, a measly three days of safety and comfort, and already it felt so much worse to have this strangers hands on him. So much worse to feel the hot, heavy breath on his neck and to have the awful sent of alcohol fill his nostrils, to have knees shoved roughly between his legs, and rough fingers roaming beneath his clothes.

He didn't try to stop the tears that streamed down his cheeks. _Please,_ he thought—prayed—to whoever may be listening, _please, no. Someone help me, please. Please!_

But no one was coming, he knew no one was coming. Because the only person who'd ever helped him, he ran away from. The only one to care for him, he left in Stormwind. He ran, like a coward, at the first sign of conflict. And now he was getting what he deserved.

The man’s hands moved south, slipping into Khadgar’s pants. He let out a silent cry, one thought playing over and over in his mind; _I'm sorry._

* * *

Lothar felt a bit bad about taking one of the gryphons for his trip to Goldshire, but with his sisters blessing, and a growing worry for Khadgar’s safety as dusk fell on Azeroth, he managed to push his guilt aside. As he rode, he tried to focus on what would happen when he found Khadgar. Not _if_ , but _when_. Because he would find the mage, and when he did they would go to Karazhan and seek help from Medivh.

Goldshire was bustling as ever when he landed. Lothar patted the bird gently on the beak and told her to wait for him before nodding his approval to the waiting stable hand. He needed to find Khadgar, and quickly. If he was here, that is. His first instinct was to head for the inn, despite knowing Khadgar had no money. He hoped if the mage wasn't inside, there would be someone who had seen him pass through—someone with a general idea of where he went.

However, before he could open the door, sounds of a struggle hit his ears. Lothar’s blood ran cold as he backed away from the entrance and headed for the side of the building, where he could now hear muffled grunting and more struggling. His heart was in his throat as he crept along, knowing it would be better to analyze the situation instead of barging in. He didn't want to think about what scene awaited him— _who_ awaited him.

He knew even before glancing around the corner, hand on the hilt of his sword, it was Khadgar. He knew, but when his suspicion was confirmed, he felt himself fill with rage. Adrenaline and anger pumped through his veins, and before he could think about the proper way to handle the situation, he was tackling the man off Khadgar.

He pinned him to the grass, taking pleasure in the fear and shock in his eyes as Lothar lifted his fist and promptly slammed it into his right cheek with his full force. But it didn't feel like enough, so he hit the man again, and again, and again, until his knuckles were covered with blood and the man lay unconscious in the grass.

Heavy breathing, silent sobs, pulled him back from the rage and almost instantly he was at Khadgar’s side. He reached out for the mage, but Khadgar flinched away. Lothar tried not to allow himself to feel hurt. He tried to tell himself that it wasn't him Khadgar feared, that he was just shaken. But Lothar had been so rough with him in the library…

“Khadgar,” he said quietly, reaching out again, this time to run his hand through his hair, “it's okay. You're okay. You're safe now.”

The mage looked up at him then for the first time, his eyes wide and filled with tears. With his head lifted, Lothar could tell that his tunic had been ripped open, and the pale, exposed skin bitten roughly. He could feel the anger rising again, he should kill that pig! But before he could, Khadgar was launching himself forward, throwing his arms around Lothar’s neck and clinging to him as if he was a life source. Without hesitation, his arms looped around Khadgar’s waist, pulling him closer as he rubbed soothing circles into his back.

“You're okay,” he said again. “I'm not going to let anyone hurt you like that ever again.”

Khadgar pressed his face tighter against Lothar’s neck, tears staining the collar of his tunic, but he was already beginning to calm down. His breath was levelling out, though he still trembled in Lothar’s arms. He was just glad he had arrived when he had. He wished it had been sooner, that Khadgar wouldn't have had to experience that at all, but he was glad that it wasn't any worse.

“We’re going to stay here for the night, in the inn,” Lothar said quietly, his voice barely above a whisper. “But in the morning, we’re going to Karazhan. There's someone there that may be able to help us get your voice back.”

Once again, Khadgar turned his wide-eyed gaze on him. This time. It wasn't filled with fear, but hope. Hope, and confusion. Like he couldn't understand why Lothar would be helping him, and he realized at once that he probably _didn't_ understand why. This poor man had gone so long without someone looking out for him, he didn't know what to do. Not for the first time, Lothar’s heart ached for him.

He knew, without a doubt, he would protect Khadgar for as long was necessary now. He couldn't let him go or leave him be until he knew that he was safe and able to fend for himself. Because by the Light, he was really starting to care for the kid. It was a dangerous thing.

* * *

Part of Khadgar felt ridiculous as he clung to Lothar outside the inn, sobbing into his neck and holding onto him like he was the one thing keeping him grounded, but that's the thing—he _was._ He had given up, lost all hope, and by some miracle Lothar had appeared just when he was needed. Just like the first time. He was there, somehow, and he once again saved Khadgar from… He shuddered at the thought of what was about to happen before Lothar showed up.

So maybe he felt a little silly, or childish, holding the man so tightly, but he felt safe. Even after what happened in the library, after seeing a dark side of Lothar, he felt protected. _And,_ Khadgar thought, _he said he thinks there may be a way to get my voice back. He wants to help._

He'd thought that his ties to the Kirin Tor were where Lothar’s anger coming from. Khadgar expected that it would be directed at him, not at them. He never expected for Lothar to react so strongly to finding out what they did, or for him to want to help. They were going to _Karazhan._ That could only mean one thing; the man Lothar said would help was none other than the Guardian Medivh. Khadgar’s stomach jumped at the thought of being in front of someone with such greatness. He didn’t know if he deserved to waste the man’s time.

“Khadgar,” Lothar whispered, pulling him from his thoughts. “Are you alright to move now? At least, enough for me to get us rooms for the night?”

Khadgar nodded and, reluctantly, released his grasp. Lothar stood and offered a hand, which he gladly took. They walked into the inn together, Khadgar using the commander as a shield to hide himself from prying eyes. It was different, to be on the inside. There were no predatory looks, though some gazed at him with lust filled eyes. Lothar didn't seem to notice any of it as he stormed over to the innkeeper, who seemed shocked to see him.

“Commander! I wasn't expecting you this evening.”

“It was a last minute trip,” Lothar said. “I'll be needing two rooms.”

The innkeeper looked uneasy as he glanced over Lothar's shoulder. Khadgar wondered if he gave off a ‘homeless’ vibe. “I'm afraid I only have one room unoccupied at the moment, sir, and it's too late for me to request guests to leave.”

“I understand, I didn't provide any notice,” he replied, waving off his concern. “Do you have a cot to spare?”

“I should, yes.”

“In that case, we’ll take the one room.”

The innkeeper nodded  and Khadgar tried not to panic over the fact that he was going to be sharing a room with Lothar. It wasn't as if they were going to be sharing a _bed_. Really, he had no reason to worry. Yet his heart pounded in his chest as they were led upstairs. The innkeeper ushered them inside, and scurried off to find the cot. Lothar dropped a bag with supplies that Khadgar hadn't noticed him carrying into the floor, then stretched his arms high above his head. Khadgar tried not to stare, but he couldn’t help himself. His eyes trailed along Lothar’s chest, halting on the thin line of skin that was exposed as the hem of his shirt lifted.

“You can take the bed, bookworm,” he said. Khadgar shook his head furiously. Lothar was paying for the room—he should _at least_ get the more comfortable amenities. But the man was having none of it. “I insist. You've been through enough tonight.”

Khadgar tried not to let the memories come back, but they were fresh. They had no troubles invading his vision and causing his hands to tremble. Thankfully, Lothar was there almost instantly. His own hands stilling the mage’s. It was then he noticed the bruises and broken skin of Lothar’s knuckles. He lifted them closer to his face, trying to portray his worry through looks. Lothar chuckled, and ruffled his hair.

“I'm fine,” he assured. “I've had plenty worse.”

Khadgar didn't care if he'd had worse. Lothar was injured because he was protecting him, the least he could do was tend to his wounds. So he grabbed the other man’s arm, and wrote a wore clearly with his fingertip, _BANDAGE?_

“Khadgar, I'm _fine_ ,” he said again, but the mage shook s head furiously. With a sigh, Lothar left the room. When he returned he was helping the innkeeper carry a cot, and he had first aid materials under his arm. Khadgar smiled smugly, to which Lothar rolled his eyes—though he was smiling too. He thanked the innkeeper, and moved to sit next to Khadgar on the bed.

“You know,” he began, watching intently as Khadgar fiddled with the materials he'd been handed, “I think that's the first time I've ever seen you smile.” Khadgar blushed, ducking his head in embarrassment and focusing instead on cleaning the wounds on Lothar's knuckles. But Lothar ducked his head, too, forcing Khadgar to make eye contact. “I'd rather like to see more of it.”

Khadgar felt himself smile at the statement, however involuntarily, and Lothar beamed back. He hadn't felt like smiling since he'd arrived in Stormwind, and after what had happened outside he really _shouldn't_ feel like smiling. But Lothar had a way of soothing his worry and easing his mind in a way that only books ever had.

Khadgar tried not to think too much about what that meant


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much to everyone who has taken the time to subscribe, leave kudos, bookmark, and _especially_ those of you who have taken the time to comment! I'm so floored by the incredible feedback, and I'm really glad you're enjoying it so far. I can't wait to share the rest of the story with y'all. I'm hoping to continue with daily uploads, but I do start a new job this week that often has 10-hour days, so there may be a day or two that I miss. Apologies in advance. Anyway, enough rambling from me. Thank you for reading, and I hope you enjoy this chapter! (:

When Lothar woke the next morning, the sun wasn't even up. One of the downsides to the life of a commander—his body just didn't know how to sleep in anymore. With a groan, he pulled himself into a sitting position. He knew that he should see if that man was still outside, or alive really. He _should've_ informed someone the night prior, but he was a little…preoccupied.

He stood, eyes moving to Khadgar instinctively. In his sleep, the young mage looked so peaceful. The worry that always seemed to be so present during the day was smoothed out. His mouth was open slightly, and his hair was messy against the pillow. Lothar smiled fondly at him and, without really thinking, reached down to gently push a few stray strands off his forehead.

He froze, his hand still in Khadgar’s soft hair, as he realized there was a… A fondness in his chest that hadn't been there before. Or, maybe he just hadn't noticed it. There was just something about the younger man, but Lothar couldn't put his finger on what it was. With a sigh, he moved away from the bed and started getting ready.

As he was about to leave the room, he had a moment of worry. What if Khadgar woke to find him gone? Would the kid freak out, think that Lothar abandoned him? He worried his bottom lip between his teeth for a moment, before grabbing some of the parchment he'd brought with him and jutting down a note.

_Gone to send Taria a letter and finalize everything for our trip. Stay put, I'll be back soon._

_Lothar_

He placed the parchment on the table next to the bed and spared one last look at Khadgar. Without thinking, or being fully aware of his actions, Lothar bent down to press a soft kiss to the man’s forehead. He left the room with a blush rising in his cheeks and confusion fogging his mind.

* * *

Khadgar woke with a start, the last shadows of his dream lingering a moment before fading, thankfully, into his memory. The room was bright, the sun shining through the window to his left. Khadgar sat up, slowly, and glanced towards the cot. Lothar was gone. He felt his heart jump into his throat, even as he tried to tell himself there was a rational reason. However, before he was able to panic too much, he noticed the note on the bedside table.

He could feel the tension—the panic—leave his body. He pushed himself off the bed, trying to ignore the stiffness and soreness in his muscles as he dressed. Lothar told him to stay put, but it wasn't as if he could get lost in Goldshire. So he pulled on his tunic, trying to ignore that he couldn't quite do it up properly anymore, and began his search for Lothar.

The inn wasn't as busy now. The occupants from the night before were likely home, or still sleeping off their hangovers upstairs. The few men in the tavern were already nursing beers, and Khadgar couldn't help but turn his nose up at the idea. He was about to head outside when Lothar’s voice drifted in from the direction of the kitchen.

“Well what wold you expect me to do?” He shouted suddenly, making Khadgar jump as he crept closer. “He was—that man was going to—I couldn't just let that happen! Are you telling me you would?”

“Anduin,” the King’s voice was calm, albeit shocking to hear, “you know that's not my concern. You took a gryphon, without permission, for a mission I explicitly told you not to go on.”

“Taria gave me permission, and her word is just as good as yours.”

“I am your King, Anduin, but I'm also your friend. I don't think you've thought this through. You're wasting so much time on that mage, and for what? You don't even know the circumstances of why he left the Kirin Tor. What if they took his voice because he's dangerous?”

Khadgar felt his breath stop. Dangerous. The King feared he was _dangerous_. Not for the first time, and certainly not for the last, he desperately wished he could explain. He wished he could tell his stories from his time with the Kirin Tor— _explain_ that it wasn’t his choice and wasn’t a life he was prepared to live. He wasn’t dangerous; if anything, he wanted to use his magic to help people.

“I can't believe this. You are the _King_. It's your duty to protect the citizens of this kingdom—and that included Khadgar as soon as he walked through the gates of Stormwind.”

“He could be dangerous,” the King repeated. “We don't know what power he possesses, what he is capable of with his voice.”

“If he is, and I doubt he is, we’ll be with Medivh. He's the most powerful mage we know—he will be able to stop him if need be.”

“I can't condone this trip, Anduin. You know that.”

“I'm not asking you to condone it, I'm asking you to let us go.”

There was a pause, much too long for Khadgar's liking. Then, “You have a week, Lothar. If you're not back by then I'll have no choice but to send soldiers to retrieve you.”

The King’s voice got quieter, and strain as he may Khadgar couldn't hear what was said. He returned to the room with a heavy heart, more confused than ever. The King was reasonable, his fears just. So why didn't Lothar feel the same? Why did the older man have such trust for Khadgar?

* * *

“You have a week, Lothar. If you're not back by then I'll have no choice but to send soldiers to retrieve you,” Llane stepped closer, lowering his voice. “And you need to prepare yourself for the worst. If Khadgar ends up a threat, you cannot let your fondness for him cloud your judgment.”

“Don't be ridiculous, Llane.”

“Anduin, we see how you look at him, how desperately you try to protect him. You need to swear to me you will do what needs to be done for the good of Stormwind— _if_ he turns out to be—”

“I won't have to.”

“I hope you're right,” Llane sighed. “I'll let Taria know you found him, and that you're headed to Karazhan. Have a safe journey.”

Lothar nodded, and watched his friend—his King—leave. The idea of Khadgar being dangerous was ridiculous. Powerful, maybe, but not _dangerous_. His eyes weren’t filled with darkness, but fear—and occasionally, curiosity. More than that, he had tried to run from Stormwind and the aid Lothar was providing because he worried he was a burden. Lothar knew without a doubt that Khadgar’s heart was pure. And if it wasn’t, if all this was a ruse… Medivh would be more than capable of handling the situation.

When arrived back in their shared room, the mage was sitting cross-legged on the bed, a book in his hands. Lothar almost questioned where he got it, but instead shook his head with a fond smile, “C’mon, bookworm. Let’s get some breakfast, it’s going to be a long journey to Karazhan.”

* * *

Khadgar felt awkward, sitting across from Lothar unable to provide any sort of meaningful conversation. Furthermore, he felt guilty for eavesdropping, and what he heard was still sitting heavily in his throat. Lothar asked if he wanted anything specific for breakfast, but Khadgar simply shook his head and waved a hand—trying to say that he’d have whatever. He still didn’t know how he would ever repay Lothar for his generosity.

It wasn’t long before Lothar, thankfully, filled the silence.

“I was worried about you; you know?” He asked. Khadgar shook his head, dropping his gaze down to the table. “You just… ran off. I had no idea where, but I knew you were going with no food, or money. If it weren’t for Taria’s observance, I may never have found you,” he paused, and Khadgar could hear him fidgeting, shifting in his seat. “I’m sorry, Khadgar.”

He stared up at the older man in confusion, brow furrowed. What was he apologizing for? All Khadgar had been doing since he found him was causing trouble, _he_ should be apologizing. But Lothar shook his head sadly, “What I did in the library was… inappropriate. Despite knowing what has happened to you, at least some of it, I reacted violently. I scared you, and I apologize. I never…” He looked away this time, shaking his head as he scanned the room. “I never wanted to see you afraid, not of _me._ ”

Khadgar wanted to tell him that it was okay, that it was just an automatic reaction. He had scared him, sure, but he’d also saved him. Lothar cared deeply for his King, and for Stormwind. A mage spy could be incredibly dangerous, he reacted in a perfectly reasonable way. But he couldn’t say any of that, not yet at least. So he reached across the table, and placed his hand over Lothar’s.

“You know I’m not angry with you, right?” He asked. “I never was. I was angry with _them_ —the Kirin Tor. They had no right to steal your voice; to leave you helpless.”

Khadgar nodded slowly. He wondered how Lothar would feel once he knew that he could’ve gotten his voice back whenever—he only need return to the Kirin Tor, to beg for their forgiveness and sign his freedom away. He wondered if Lothar would think him foolish for choosing the streets, the abuse, the… pain over a life of comfort, and study, and magic. He wondered if Lothar would understand that the loneliness and selfishness of the Kirin Tor was enough to draw him away; to make him choose pain just because it meant he was at least _living_.

“What are you thinking?” Lothar asked quietly, despite knowing Khadgar couldn’t answer. Somehow, he didn’t need to. It was just Lothar’s way of bringing him back. “Will you forgive me, for what I did?”

Khadgar nodded quickly, and before another word could be said, the food arrived.

* * *

Khadgar had never ridden on a gryphon. If he was honest, he probably hadn’t ever stood within twenty feet of a gryphon. Lothar was smiling, and nudging him forwards, and it wasn’t like Khadgar didn’t _know_ they would be taking a gryphon, but the bird was eyeing him and it didn’t look quite sure and he really wished he could tell Lothar that.

The man didn’t seem to notice, though he did step ahead of Khadgar, _much_ to his relief. The bird changed completely when Lothar approached her. If it wasn’t a crazy thought, Khadgar would’ve sworn it was… smiling. It was jumping excitedly regardless as Lothar’s hands pet the feathers of her neck. “No need to be afraid, bookworm. She’s harmless,” he paused, “to you, anyway.”

Khadgar frowned, both at the nickname that Lothar seemed to be enjoying more and more, and the completely unhelpful ‘reassurance.’ He watched as the bird sank lower to the ground, allowing Lothar to strap their supplies to her saddle before climbing on himself. Once situated, he turned his gaze back to Khadgar, and motioned him forward. Khadgar took a hesitant step, and though the bird still eyed him suspiciously, she didn’t move from her crouched position.

Lothar offered him a hand up, which Khadgar gratefully took. They were seated so close, almost touching, and he could feel himself blushing. “You’re going to want to hold on,” Lothar said over his shoulder, grabbing the reigns in his hands. “The last thing I need is for you to fall off.”

Khadgar nodded, knowing Lothar couldn’t see it. He hesitantly fisted his hands in the sleeves of the vest Lothar wore. “Okay, here we go!” He shouted, and then the bird was standing. Khadgar felt his heart drop into his stomach as they launched into the sky and—and the ground was very, very far away, and they were going very, very fast. Without thinking, he wrapped his arms tightly around Lothar’s waist, shoving his face against the older man’s back and squeezing his eyes shut.

“You alright, Khadgar?” Lothar asked. He nodded, though all his focus was not on throwing up or passing out. That was the _last_ thing he needed to be doing. Instead, he tried to focus on the rise and fall of Lothar’s chest. He turned his head, pressing his ear against his back and listening to the soothing sound of his heartbeat. His hands were fisted tightly into the front of Lothar’s vest now, and they were pressed tightly together, no space between them.

Part of him wanted to open his eyes; see Azeroth as they flew high above, but he was terrified that the view would be too much. They had a long flight ahead of them, he knew, and he rather wanted to stay conscious for it. If only he’d had his magic. He could’ve drawn them a portal. It would’ve been faster, and safer, and their feet would more or less remain on solid ground.

“The first flight is always the hardest,” Lothar shouted over the wind. “Give it time, you’ll be a natural.”

Khadgar shook his head quickly. If he didn’t get his magic back, he would rather spend the rest of his life going places on foot or by horse. “Oh, c’mon. It’s not that bad! The view is breathtaking!”

Again, Khadgar shook his head. He could feel Lothar chuckle, rather than hear it. “Your eyes are closed, aren’t they?” Khadgar nodded, and suddenly there was a hand covering his. “Open your eyes, bookworm. Take in the view, I won’t let you fall.”

Everything in him told him it was a bad idea, yet Khadgar found himself forcing his eyes open. His grip on Lothar tightened as he realized just how high they were, but the hand covering his squeezed and Khadgar felt himself relax. His heart pounded in his chest, but the view… the view _was_ breathtaking. Everything looked so small, and they were moving so quickly, but from up here he could see how green and _alive_ Azeroth was.

“Worth it?” Lothar asked. Khadgar nodded slowly.

“I won’t let you fall,” he repeated, but it was far too late for that. Khadgar fell the moment Lothar showed up in the alleyway.

* * *

Karazhan was far more grand than Khadgar could’ve ever expected. The books he’d read did it no justice. Lothar circled the tower twice as he prepared to land, and Khadgar couldn’t look away from the magic—the _power—_ flowing into the chamber at the top. When the bird finally landed he found himself unable to move, floored by the grandeur. And uncertain if he could stand on solid ground.

Lothar jumped off first, immediately moving to praise the bird for the ‘good job’ that she’d done. When he noticed Khadgar hadn’t moved, he broke out into the smuggest, biggest smile. Khadgar frowned. “Need a hand, bookworm?”

He crossed his arms with a huff and shook his head quickly. He would not be treated like a child, not here. He threw his leg over the saddle, preparing himself for the drop to the floor. With a deep breath, he pushed himself forward. As expected, his legs gave out upon hitting the hard ground. Instantly, Lothar was at his side, a hand under his elbow stopping him from hitting the ground as the other landed on his waist. When Khadgar looked up, their faces were mere inches away. He could feel Lothar’s breath on his cheek, could see into the depths of his blue eyes, and—

“What are you doing here, Lothar?” Moroes asked from behind them. They jumped apart instantly. “Has there been a problem in Stormwind?”

“No, Stormwind is safe as always, Moroes,” Lothar said, moving to clap the elderly man on the shoulder. “Look at you, you haven’t aged at all.”

“That’s kind of you. Are you here to visit with, Medivh, then? He could use the company.”

“Yes, but I also have a favor to ask of him,” Lothar turned to motion Khadgar forward. “This is Khadgar, he—”

“Left the Kirin Tor, yes. We heard of his disgrace, but why have you brought him here?”

Lothar frowned deeply, “The punishment was unjust. I’ve come to seek the help of Medivh to have the spell lifted.”

“Lothar,” Moroes looked unsure, and Khadgar could feel the distrust in his eyes. “I don’t know that it is wise—”

“Yes, well, we will see what the Guardian says, yes?” Moroes looked as if he wanted to turn them away, but he bent in a half-bow instead, and started moving back towards the tower. Lothar motioned for Khadgar to follow and he did, though there was a heavy uncertainty weighing him down as he did.

Karazhan was more breathtaking inside than out. And there were _so many books_. Khadgar wasn’t sure he’d ever _seen_ so many books in one place—it far surpassed even the Stormwind library. And to think that they were all filled with magic! How he yearned to spend hours and days learning everything they had to offer. “Lothar, come with me,” Moroes said, beginning up the grand staircase. “The fugitive mage waits here, until Medivh has made his decision.”

Lothar nodded, and started up the stairs after him. Khadgar reached out for one of the books, and as if on cue Lothar’s voice rang out, “Don’t touch anything.” He recoiled his outstretched hand and nodded quickly. But once he was sure they were too far to see him… Khadgar began to explore.

Khadgar tried to touch _everything_.

* * *

“Lothar!” Medivh exclaimed happily when Moroes announced his presence. He was currently sculpting… something. Upon seeing his confused glance, he chuckled. “It’s a golem, I think it’ll be good to have someone around to keep Moroes company and help with the cleaning.”

Lothar chuckled, though he was still embarrassingly out of breath. He would never be able to understand how the mages managed so many stairs on a daily basis. Though, he supposed, they could probably just teleport. “So what brings you, friend? A message from Llane?”

“No…” Lothar shook his head, taking a deep breath. “A… favour actually. If there’s… anyone who can… help… it’s you.”

Moroes handed him a goblet of wine, which Lothar downed gratefully. “A favour? What is it, Lothar? You know I will always help you,” he tilted his head to the side, brow furrowing. “Who’s downstairs?”

“The favour,” Lothar said slowly. “His name is Khadgar, and I’m asking you to help him get his voice back.”

“ _Khadgar_?” Medivh hissed. “You brought that—that fugitive here, to _me_?”

He really hated that everyone kept using that word, ‘fugitive.’ He wasn’t a fugitive, he sure as hell wasn’t hiding. If the Kirin Tor wanted to find him, Lothar didn’t doubt that they could. “You can’t tell me you think his punishment for leaving is _just_ , Medivh. They stole his voice! He can barely survive on his own.”

“He made that choice on his own, Lothar,” Medivh said firmly. “To leave the Kirin Tor… even you must know the disgrace that brings. The punishment is a physical embodiment of that disgrace.”

“Medivh, please,” Lothar said. “You haven’t met the boy. Even I can tell he has a great potential to do much, if he were only given the chance.”

“He _was_ given the chance—he was the Guardian Initiate, Lothar. He was training to take over _my_ position. He turned his potential down.”

“I’m sure he has his reasons.”

“Maybe, but I can’t just…” Medivh shook his head. “I am the Guardian, and I may not answer to the Kirin Tor any longer, but it would be unwise to act against their wishes.”

“Please, Medivh. I don’t know how else to help him,” Lothar stepped forward, staring into his old friend’s eyes and trying to portray his sincerity. “At least meet him for yourself, try to see what I see.”

Much to Lothar’s amazement, the Guardian nodded and began to descend the grand staircase.

* * *

Lothar could’ve strangled the damn kid when he finally reached the bottom of the staircase. Medivh had gotten there first, unsurprisingly with how he seemed to glide down the stairs, and Khadgar was currently pinned to the wall. His eyes were wide with fear, and in his hands was one of the books that Lothar had explicitly told him _not_ to touch. “Medivh,” he said, reaching for his friend’s arm, “let him down.”

“He was stealing.”

“Not stealing, just snooping,” Lothar sighed. “He’s more of a bookworm than you were in our youth. I told him not to touch them, but I doubt he could control himself.”

Medivh looked hesitant, but he released the spell… and Khadgar fell almost a story to the hard ground. Lothar rushed to his side, making sure he was alright as he sent a glare Medivh’s way. The Guardian was watching them with what seemed to be curiosity. Lothar helped Khadgar to his feet, and guided him over to Medivh.

“This is Khadgar,” he said, as if it wasn’t clear. “And Khadgar, this is the Guardian. Medivh.”

Khadgar looked awestruck. He stared up at Medivh with wide eyes, and when Lothar nudged him, he bowed. Actually _bowed_. A glance at his old friend told him that even _Medivh_ could see the innocence in the young mage. “So, you were the one foolish enough to leave the Kirin Tor?”

Khadgar nodded.

“Do you regret your choice, now that you’ve seen what the world is like—the monsters that walk among us?” Lothar tried not to question how he could tell Khadgar had experienced such things. He very much did _not_ want to know if Medivh knew things about him.

Khadgar very quickly shook his head.

“Are you a fool? You’ve been beaten, starved, had your dignity stripped from you night after night.”

“Medivh—” Lothar warned, seeing Khadgar’s eyes glazing over slightly. He was getting pulled into his mind, into the memories. But Medivh didn’t listen.

“You had a life waiting, _planned_ , for you with the Kirin Tor. You were destined for great things, and yet you don’t regret leaving that to be nothing more than a disgusting beggar—a toy for men to use?”

Lothar wanted to stop him, but Khadgar squared his shoulders. There were unshed tears in his eyes, but he stared Medivh down with a confidence Lothar hadn’t seen before and shook his head firmly. Lothar expected the worst, expected Medivh to continue his torment or order them to leave Karazhan. Then again, it wouldn’t be the first time the Guardian shocked him.

“In that case, I will help you,” Khadgar visibly deflated, a mixture of what Lothar could only be relief, joy, and excitement washing over him. Medivh didn’t seem phased in the slightest as he continued. “I can’t promise that I will be able to find a spell to counter what they’ve done, and even if I can, I don’t know how long it will take. I’ll have to figure out _what_ they’ve done before I can attempt to fix it. Are you willing to allow me to perform my tests?”

Khadgar nodded quickly. “In that case, we will begin in the morning,” he retreated back up the stairs, likely to fetch Moroes again. As soon as he was out of sight, Khadgar threw his arms around Lothar’s neck. It was unexpected, but not unwelcome. He wrapped his own arms tightly around Khadgar’s waist.

“I told you I would help you, spell-chucker,” he said quietly. “I can’t wait to hear that voice of yours.”

 


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is coming a little earlier today because I just couldn't wait to write this scene. It's a tad bit shorter because I very badly wanted to end with a specific line, so apologies for that! This is definitely _not_ the end, though, so stay tuned for a new chapter tomorrow! (possibly Friday, it really depends on how long my shift is tomorrow)

“Lothar, I think it best if you return to Stormwind, let Llane and Taria know that I have agreed to help Khadgar,” Medivh said the following morning. Lothar’s head snapped up from his breakfast, arguments already beginning to roll from his tongue. “The last thing I need is for the King’s guard to show up here, and you know how Llane worries.”

“So I’ll send a letter,” Lothar said. There was no way that he was letting Khadgar out of his sights. Not after the last time—and _especially_ not when he was unsure of how Medivh really felt about the kid.

Medivh just shook his head, “Letters often get lost leaving Karazhan. We’d have no idea if it actually arrived.”

“I’m not leaving.”

“You can return immediately if you wish. I’ll even draw you a portal, save you the flight home,” he wanted to argue more, but Khadgar reached across the table, patting his hand lightly with an encouraging nod. And damn if those eyes couldn’t get Lothar to do anything, so he nodded slowly.

“I’ll be back no latter than midday tomorrow,” he said, more to Khadgar than Medivh. The mage nodded, and flashed one of his rare smiles. It did a good job of calming the worry in Lothar’s mind. He looked forward to telling his sister and Llane that they had made it, and that Medivh was willing to help, but he was terrified he’d come back to find they’d found the answer without him. Selfishly, Lothar wanted to be there when Khadgar spoke for the first time—he wanted to be the first to hear his voice.

He left for Stormwind after breakfast, sending his gryphon home and accepting the portal from Medivh. He _really_ hated travelling by magic, but it was much faster. And, without his weight, his bird would likely make it back shortly after him. Before he left, he pulled Khadgar into a tight hug. He didn’t really think about it, or why he did it, and the kid was obviously a little shocked. But Lothar just held him tighter; it felt right. “Good luck, bookworm. I’ll be back as soon as I can.”

Khadgar nodded, and stepped away from him as Medivh handed him the portal. In a flash, he was gone. Back in the throne room of Stormwind.

* * *

Khadgar tried to ignore the unease in his heart as Lothar disappeared in a flash of light, leaving just him and Medivh. And Moroes… somewhere. It was one thing to be in the Guardian’s company with someone who considered him a friend, but alone? For one, Medivh obviously knew who he was. He knew the role that Khadgar had given up. But also, he was just _so powerful_. Khadgar felt helpless next to him.

“Well,” the Guardian said, “shall we get started, then?”

Khadgar nodded, and followed him to a cot on the other side of the room. He lay down, as instructed, and tried not to panic as Medivh’s hands hovered over his body. He listened to the chants, watching as blue light and runes started to form around Medivh’s hands. He tried to figure out what spell was being used, but it was nothing he was familiar with. Slowly, Medivh ran his hands up his chest, landing just over his neck. He paused his chants, “Tilt your head back, expose as much of your neck as possible.”

Khadgar did as told, and Medivh continued. His throat started to feel hot— _very_ hot. He squeezed his eyes shut against the pain, knowing that all magic came with a cost. Khadgar didn’t know how long it continued. It felt like hours, but it could’ve been mere minutes. He hadn’t felt such intense, concentrated pain since he left the Kirin Tor. His mouth was open and he knew, if he had a voice, he would’ve been screaming.

Finally, _finally_ , it stopped. Medivh looked tired, but there was a pity in his eyes Khadgar wasn’t expecting. He told Moroes to fetch food and water, and then helped Khadgar into a sitting position. All of his muscles felt tense and sore, despite the fact the magic had been concentrated in his throat.

“I’m sorry,” Medivh said, “for the pain. If I could’ve found a less… brutal spell, I would’ve used it. But none were as effective.”

Khadgar shook his head, letting him know it was fine; _he_ was fine. He didn’t expect it to be an easy process. Medivh nodded in understanding, and Moroes thankfully appeared with trays of food and a pitcher of water. Neither Medivh, nor Khadgar said anything for a while as they scoffed down the provided refreshments—both were famished.

When he was finished, Medivh sat back and stared out one of the far windows. He began to speak, “When I was with the Kirin Tor, I was the best student they had. I excelled at everything, did everything they asked of me without question. I didn’t always agree with them, but I wanted to learn _everything_. I sense that you were much the same.”

Khadgar nodded, and Medivh continued, “They seek out kids like us, every time. They try to coerce us into staying with promises of greatness—of protecting Azeroth as the great Guardian. For me, it worked. For the first couple of years I was honored, happy. I had this entire library to read and learn and absorb, but the life of the Guardian is a lonely one, Khadgar. And even now, the Kirin Tor have their hold on me. I don’t have to listen to them, but to disobey their wishes? Well, you’re fully aware now of the consequences of such a thing.

“When I was younger, much younger, I always wished to leave the Kirin Tor. I joined much later than the average kid, as I’m sure you guessed by my friendship with Llane and Lothar. I… I joined of my own accord, I wasn’t given. I was so young, so naïve. I saw Llane preparing to be King, and Lothar working his way towards Commander. I wanted to be great, too,” he sighed. “It didn’t take long for me to realize just what one had to sacrifice to be part of the Kirin Tor and, later, the Guardian. I often thought about leaving, but the whispers in the halls of Dalaran always spoke of the cost—of the punishment. I was afraid.”

He stood, and began to pace the room, “I stayed, committed myself to this lifestyle. Then, word of a young mage—the young mage destined to take over my position—leaving came to Karazhan. The Kirin Tor were furious, and this punishment reflects that anger. You were the first in a very long time to have the courage to leave, Khadgar, and I commend you for it. I know they likely didn’t even tell you want the punishment would be, yet you committed to the sacrifice. That takes incredible strength, as does what you have struggled through since.”

Khadgar could feel himself blushing, and could feel the sting of tears in his eyes. He didn’t want to appear weak, but he hadn’t been praised… ever, really. For over a year, he’d struggled with his choice, questioned if it was the right one. Finally, someone was telling him it was.

“It’s okay to show your emotions,” Medivh assured, ruffling his hair. “I’m going to go research what I’ve found. You should get some rest.”

Khadgar nodded and watched Medivh retreat down the stairs. He lay back against the cot, closing his eyes and feeling more at peace than he had in a long time.

* * *

Lothar returned to Karazhan at the break of dawn the next morning. Taria had been thrilled to hear that they had made it safely, and that Medivh was willing to help. Llane, not as much, though he gave his blessing for Lothar to return. His eyes warned that he was still unsure of the mage, but Lothar refused to believe his doubts.

Moroes met him outside, informing him that they were in the library, trying to locate the counter-spell that Medivh had thought of. Lothar had to force himself not to run inside. He saw Medivh first, nose buried in a book in a way that Lothar hadn’t seen since they were young. “I would’ve thought you’d have these books memorized by now,” he said, and Medivh simply waved him off. Khadgar, however, appeared from behind a bookshelf with potentially the brightest smile Lothar had ever seen.

Before he could return the smile, his eyes landed on the mage’s neck. It was bruised and red, the tell-tale signs of an attempted strangling. He turned to Medivh, vision clouded by anger as he pushed his friend roughly against the bookshelf. “What did you do to him?”

“What are you talking about?” Medivh struggled, but didn’t attempt to use magic. Khadgar was at his side then, too, hands pulling at his arms.

“Look at his neck! What did you do to him?” He shoved the Guardian roughly against the bookshelf.

“It’s part of the spell, Lothar! I can’t control the effects!”

Lothar knew he was telling the truth, but it didn’t stifle his anger. Just as he’d feared, Khadgar had been hurt in his absence. “Is this why you made me leave, then? So you could torture him?”

“I made you leave because I knew you couldn’t handle seeing him in pain,” Medivh lowered his voice, though with Khadgar’s proximity it wasn’t as if he couldn’t hear. “I see how you look at him; I knew this would be your reaction.”

Lothar released him, and Medivh struggled briefly to regain his balance. He nodded at Khadgar, who looked far more worried than Lothar was expecting, and left them alone. As soon as he was gone, Lothar turned to Khadgar and gently tilted his chin up. His fingers brushed the bruise gently, “Are you sure he didn’t hurt you?”

Khadgar grabbed his hands and forced eye contact. He nodded firmly, and Lothar sighed, “I’m sorry, for overreacting. You’ve just… you’ve been through so much already.”

Khadgar patted his hands gently, leading him over to a desk in the back of the room. He began scribbling down on the parchment, and Lothar leaned over his shoulder to read as he wrote.

_All magic comes with a price, I expected such a spell to have some kind of repercussion. It hurt, but Medivh was as gentle as possible. And now we have a pretty good idea of what we’re looking for._

“I don’t like seeing you hurt,” Lothar said quietly. His hands found their way to Khadgar’s hips, spinning him around so that Lothar could look into his eyes. “I really hope that we can find the answer to this.”

Khadgar nodded, and though Lothar knew he should move, that he had no good reason to be standing so close to the mage, he found himself unable and unwilling. One of his hands reached up to gently brush Khadgar’s cheek, while his thumb on the other rubbed soft circles into his hip. For what it was worth, Khadgar didn’t push him away. Instead, his eyes drooped shut, and he leaned into the touch.

Lothar’s heart exploded with fondness, with the urge to move forward, to close the distance between them fully and just… A cough rang out from behind them, and the two jumped apart instantly. Moroes stood at the foot of the stairs, looking like he was far too used to this sort of thing, “Medivh believes he may have found the solution.”

* * *

Khadgar had never run upstairs as quickly as he did upon hearing that his voice could be within his grasp. Lothar wasn’t far behind, looking just as excited and _happy_. And Khadgar tried not to think too much about the older man, because he didn’t quite know what had just happened in the library. Lothar had looked at him with such tenderness; he’d held him in a way Khadgar had never been held.

He couldn’t help but wonder what would’ve happened, had Moroes not interrupted. Khadgar shook his head quickly, clearing the thought from his mind. Lothar didn’t… wouldn’t see him like that. Not knowing how Khadgar was no longer pure; not knowing that Khadgar had been used and abused by so many already.

No, no one would ever be able to see him like that. He didn’t _deserve_ to be seen with such fondness. And once his voice was returned to him, or once they discovered it was impossible, him and Lothar would go their separate ways.

Medivh sat at his desk on the far side of the room, studying an open book. He looked up when they entered and smiled—actually _smiled_ , “I think this is it.”

“You’re sure?” Lothar asked, moving to look over his friend’s shoulders, despite likely understanding nothing on the page.

“If it’s anything, it’s this.”

Lothar pulled the Guardian into a hug, clapping him roughly on the back, “I knew you’d find it!”

“C’mere, mage,” Medivh said, hand outstretched. Khadgar took it, nervously, and allowed himself to be positioned in the center of the room. Medivh grabbed the book from the table, reading the counter-spell over a final time, before turning all his energy towards Khadgar. He spoke in an unfamiliar language, likely ancient and long abandoned. Power gathered in his hands, growing more and more in intensity as he walked across the room towards Khadgar.

When he was less than a foot away, he lifted his hands to Khadgar’s neck again. There was pain— _so_ much pain. He felt his legs go weak, falling to his knees, but Medivh didn’t stop. His hands just followed as he continued to speak. There were tears running down Khadgar’s cheeks. He was mildly aware of Lothar, being held by Moroes, on the edge of the room, shouting for Medivh to stop. But he couldn’t, not now. It was too close.

The room exploded in light, and then everything was over, and Khadgar was slumping against the floor. Medivh, too, seemed considerably weaker. As Moroes moved to help him, Lothar ran to Khadgar’s side. “Are you alright?” He asked, hands roaming over Khadgar’s chest and neck before landing on either side of his face. Khadgar nodded, slowly. He was sore, but there was no more pain.

“Can you… do you have your voice back?” Lothar asked hopefully.

Khadgar opened his mouth, tried to say something, and… nothing. He felt his heart drop, and once again, he could feel himself tearing up. He’d been crying an awful lot as of late. Maybe that was why it hadn’t worked—maybe he was too weak. Lothar pulled him close, and Khadgar sobbed silently against his chest.

“It’s not over,” Medivh said weakly from behind them. Both Khadgar and Lothar turned to look at him with a hope and confusion. “The counter-spell is only half of the process.”

“So… it didn’t fail?” Lothar asked.

Medivh shook his head, “The rest, I’m afraid, is up to our dear mage.”

“Khadgar? But he can’t…”

“He doesn’t need to speak. See, I couldn’t figure out how the Kirin Tor were keeping the spell so strong and active from such a distance. There was no spell, that I knew of, that could actually _steal_ someone’s voice; just mute it. But it had to be channeled, and even the Kirin Tor don’t have that kind of power. _Unless_ , they mixed a few things,” he stood, moving to help Khadgar to his feet. “To keep the spell active, they attached it to your own magic.”

“They… what?” Lothar looked between the two men, but Khadgar looked just as confused.

“They pulled your biggest weakness, the thing that holds you back from reaching your full potential, and they attached it to that,” Medivh explained. “For you, dear Khadgar, it is your sense of self-worth. You left because you didn’t think you deserved such power, didn’t you?”

Slowly, oh so slowly, Khadgar nodded.

“As I thought,” Medivh sighed. “Your weakness is that you think you _deserve_ this punishment. If you can move past that, the spell will be broken. I’ve unlocked it, but only you can break it.”

* * *

Lothar didn’t understand. He stared between the two mages, listening as Medivh explain the conditions. He didn’t understand how the spell was done, or why it wasn’t broken. All Khadgar had to do was believe in himself, why didn’t he just… do so? He had to know that he was powerful, deserving of his magic. So why could he still not speak?

Medivh decided it would be best for them to return to Stormwind. There was nothing else he could do for them, and Lothar, he reminded, had duties. He drew up a portal, which Lothar agreed to only because he knew how little Khadgar enjoyed flying. This time, they were returned to the library, not the throne room. Medivh must’ve known Khadgar would feel safest here.

“I don’t understand,” Lothar said, once he’d gotten his footing again. “Why hasn’t it broken yet?”

Khadgar just shrugged, and moved over to a pile of books he’d left behind. Lothar followed, “He said all you had to do was… was to admit to yourself that you deserve better than this, so why haven’t you?”

Again, Khadgar shrugged. He was avoiding eye contact, avoiding looking at Lothar at all. But that wasn’t happening, on no, so Lothar moved closer. Predictably, Khadgar took a step back, and another, until he found himself against the wall. Lothar moved closer again, placing his hands on the wall on either side of Khadgar’s head, effectively pinning him.

“Do you seriously think you still deserve to be forced to live like this?” Lothar asked. Khadgar looked away, but he nodded just barely. “Why, Khadgar? You have such potential, even without the Kirin Tor.”

Khadgar shook his head, his gaze not moving from the floor. Lothar frowned, “What do you mean, _no_? You were in training to become the next Guardian; your power must be immense. You deserve to live life, not just survive.”

Again, Khadgar disagreed. Lothar had about enough, and lifted his chin a little less gently than he had in Karazhan, “Why can’t you see what I see, bookworm?” He asked. He sounded angry, angrier than he wanted to, but he couldn’t stop it. He was just so—so _frustrated_!

“Why can’t you see that you have all this potential, all this worth, all this…” he trailed off, the words catching on the tip of his tongue. He knew what he wanted to say, but he didn’t know how Khadgar would react. With a sigh, Lothar moved his hand from Khadgar’s chin, to the side of his face. He caressed him, more tender than he had been in a long time, and took a deep breath. Then, he continued, “Why can’t you see all the beauty that I see?”

Khadgar’s eyes were wide, confused, and there was a sharp intake of breath. Obviously, it wasn’t what he was expecting to hear. That just spurred Lothar forward, “From the minute I found you, I knew that you were different. You weren’t just a beggar. You weren’t just some helpless kid. You didn’t even think you would ever _get_ help, and over time you made it pretty clear you didn’t think you deserved it. But you do. You deserve to be happy, you deserve to be able to use your talent, you deserve to _live_ , Khadgar.

“You… you frustrate the hell out of me. You _never_ do as you’re told, and frankly for someone who doesn’t speak you seem to still have a lot to say. But what frustrated me more than anything, was finding out how to fix this curse. Finding out that you didn’t think highly of yourself at all. I didn’t… I couldn’t figure out why you didn’t see what I see.”

Lothar sighed, resting their foreheads together and closing his eyes, “You have so much to give, bookworm. You need just let yourself.”

“Respectfully, Commander, my name is Khadgar.”


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the wait! Hopefully the slightly longer chapter makes up for it. Thank you all so, so much for all the kind comments, they make my heart swell and I smile like an idiot when I read them (I know because people keep asking me why I'm smiling like that). However, please, please, _please_ don't read my fanfiction if it'll make you late for work! It'll be there on your break/when you get back! Life comes first!
> 
> Anyway, enough rambling from me. Thank you again to everyone who's read and left kudos/bookmarked/subscribed or commented! You're the best. 
> 
> ... I'm sorry for this chapter. <3

He felt it, the minute his voice returned to him, though he guessed it never left. But he knew the moment the spell lifted, as Lothar seemed to lay his heart out in the open. He felt it lift as their foreheads touched and, for the first time, Khadgar felt like he belonged right there in Lothar’s arms.

He didn't know what to say. What was one supposed to say, after so long? After a confession like that? It wasn’t until he heard the nickname, that Khadgar realized it didn't matter. These would be the first of many words, of all the things he would be able to finally say.

“Respectfully, Commander,” he began, and Lothar’s eyes snapped open, “my name is Khadgar.”

Lothar smiled so brightly, his hands cupping Khadgar’s face gently, “You…”

He nodded, his smile just as big, “It's all thanks to you. It's… It's hard to believe in yourself when you think no one believes in you. Once again, you've saved me. Thank you, Lothar.”

“There's no need to thank me, I'm just glad it worked,” he gently stroked Khadgar’s cheeks. “Your voice is… It's rather lovely.”

Khadgar felt himself blush, “That's kind of you to say.”

“So what would you like to do now? The world is at your disposal.”

Khadgar smiled, “I don't know, I never really had a plan. I hoped, wished, that it would work, but I never imagined…”

“You're welcome to stay here as long as you'd like.”

“Oh, no,” Khadgar shook his head quickly, “I've been enough trouble already, I couldn't possibly.”

“Khadgar,” Lothar said quietly, “I would really love for you to stay a while. Now that you can talk, I would rather like to get to know you better.”

“I don't know how I'm ever going to repay you, and the last thing I want to do is overstay my welcome. The King…”

“I'll deal with Llane. He means well, he just worries for Stormwind,” he took a step back, and Khadgar found himself missing the warmth that he seemed to radiate. “And don't worry about repaying me, it's not necessary.”

“Lothar—”

“No, no arguments. You have no debt to me,” Lothar pressed a kiss to his forehead. Judging by his reaction, he hadn't really thought about what he was doing. Almost instantly, he was across the room, rubbing the back of his neck sheepishly. Khadgar couldn't help but smile. “Your rooms should still be waiting, I'll come find you when it's time for dinner.”

Khadgar nodded, and watched Lothar leave. He felt happier than he had in a long while, and though he wasn't quite sure what was going on between them, he was interested to see where things would go. No matter what, he was glad to have met Lothar.

* * *

“He's _here?”_ Llane asked, obviously not sharing the happiness in Lothar’s tone. “Anduin, he was supposed to stay with Medivh—in case he's _dangerous.”_

“For the last time, Llane. He's not dangerous. He's damaged, and needs someone to help him realize his worth, but he is about as far as one can get from _dangerous_.”

“I know you think you know him, Anduin, but the truth is none of us do—not really. He could've been hiding anything with his silence, and now that he has his power back… Mages are unpredictable at best, destructive at worst. Add on the fact that he's a rogue mage, bound by no rules? What am I supposed to do, Anduin?”

“I _do_ know him. It doesn't matter if he was silent most of our relationship, I feel like I know him better than myself. I've spent more time with him than anyone else in Stormwind, you can trust my opinion. And if you can't do that, consider the fact that Medivh trusted him enough to send him back here. The _Guardian of Azeroth_ trusted him to be in the city.”

Before Llane could say anything else, Taria interjected, “Llane, I understand your fears, but I think you're letting that cloud your judgement. I've interacted with Khadgar, however briefly, and I saw no darkness in his eyes,” she grabbed one of his hands in her own. “And, I trust my brother’s judgement. He's always had a way with people; his instincts are rarely wrong.”

Llane looked like he wanted to argue more, but Taria had him wrapped around her little finger. She always had the last word. So, with a sigh, Llane nodded. “Fine, he can stay. But I want you, or another guard, with him at all hours.”

“I won't argue that,” Lothar chuckled. “Thank you, Llane, Taria.”

“We’ll see you at dinner,” Taria smiled. “Enjoy your time with Khadgar until then, Callan can handle your duties for another day.”

Lothar nodded his thanks, and started towards Khadgar's room. Halfway, he realized that he wouldn't find the mage there and headed, instead, for the library.

* * *

Khadgar was so deeply engrossed in a book, that he didn't notice Lothar’s presence until his voice was in his ear and Khadgar was jumping a foot in the air, a loud yelp of shock escaping before he could stop it. He turned quickly and smacked Lothar on the shoulder, _hard_. “Don't _do_ that!” He hissed. “I'm a mage, Lothar, I could've killed you! It's not funny, why are you laughing?”

“I think you scared yourself more with your voice than I did sneaking up on you.”

“It's not funny,” Khadgar grumbled. “I've haven't had to silence myself in over a year.”

Lothar raised an eyebrow, “Are you normally loud, then?”

“I…” Khadgar blushed. He didn't know if Lothar meant to sound so… Suggestive, but he did. And it was definitely causing some unexpected reactions. “How was your meeting with the King and Queen?”

“I won't lie to you, Llane still has his concerns. But Taria and I were able to convince him everything was okay.”

Khadgar worried his bottom lip between his teeth, “Are you sure I should stay? Maybe it'd be best if I left, at least for a little while.”

“If you feel unsafe, or unwelcome, I wont force you to stay,” Lothar said, and Khadgar was shocked by the sadness in his voice. “But I, for one, would really love for you to stick around a while.”

Khadgar nodded, slowly, “If I come to be a problem, you have to let me know.”

“I will, but I don't foresee that happening,” he stepped forward, glancing at the books on the table. “Have you even left the library, bookworm?”

“Why would I?” Khadgar asked. “There's so much to learn, so much the Kirin Tor forbid us from knowing.”

Khadgar sat down, and Lothar slipped into the seat across from him. “Now that you've gotten your voice back, can I ask you something?” Khadgar raised an eyebrow, but nodded for him to go ahead. “Why did you leave the Kirin Tor? You said you disagreed with their views, but what happened?”

“There isn't a simple answer to that,” Khadgar said, closing his book. “I disagreed with many things they did. For most of us, it wasn't even our choice to be trained by them. We were given away, usually around 5 or 6 years old, so our families would be honoured. We were sacrificed, never thought of again. That alone is enough to make a child feel worthless and unimportant. But it only gets worse.

“They make everything a competition, pit us against each other. We’re told to strive to be the best, and are punished if they believe we aren't achieving our full potential. So there were no hopes for relationships of any sort, and you were told from a young age that would be the case forever. That relationships made you weak. But it worse than just not having anyone. If you were good, too good, you painted a target on your back.”

He could see Lothar tense that that, and thought about stopping. But he'd waited so long to tell his story, he didn't know that he could. “I was… I was the best. I barely slept, always worried someone would try to… Well, you know. It wasn't unjustified, either. The first time, I tried to tell our teachers, but they didn't care. They almost… Took pleasure in it. They wanted it to happen, thought it would make us better—stronger. I guess it did.

“They were cruel, and I guess I reached my breaking point,” he sighed, dropped his head into his hands and rubbed tiredly at his eyes. “Maybe I should've stayed, dealt with the hardship, fulfilled my role, but I couldn't.”

“I'm glad you didn't,” Lothar’s voice was dark, filled with that protective anger that came out whenever he was in trouble. “I'm sorry that you had to go through it at all.”

“Don't be,” Khadgar instinctively reached for his hand, and Lothar met him half way. “I'm grateful for what I learned, and I don't think I would give it up if I had the choice.”

“I wish you wouldn't have had to go through the pain, but I'm glad it brought you to me,” he said, his thumb rubbing gentle circles against the back of Khadgar's hand.

“Me, too.”

He didn't know what to make of their relationship. Sometimes, he felt like Lothar was suggesting more. He may not’ve had many friendships in his life, but he was fairly certain most didn't involve hand holding and the tenderness in his eyes. But then he would think about what Lothar knew about his past, and Khadgar just couldn't see how anyone would feel more than just raw arousal, and even then, those men had been drunk.

He took his hand back, ignoring the confusion in Lothar's expression. He could feel himself getting attached, wanting more, and he couldn't. Lothar was the only friend he had, Khadgar didn't want to ruin that by scaring him off. Thankfully, the older man didn't question it.

* * *

 

Callan, for the most part, avoided spying on his father. At least, now that he was older he did. When he was a kid, he often spied on his father, following him to the pubs so he could make sure he made it home safe. But as he grew up, his father did too. He got over the death of Callan’s mother, slowly, and Callan no longer had to sneak out in the dead of the night.

So, he really didn't _mean_ to pry, he just happened to arrive at the library in time to see his father and Khadgar holding hands over the table. It wasn't just that, though. From his position, he could see the look in his father’s eyes, the tenderness and care that he hadn't ever seen directed at someone other than him or Aunt Taria. Now that Khadgar was talking, his father was able to just sit, and watch, and listen.

As he watched, Callan couldn't help but feel he was intruding on a very private moment, but before he could turn away, Khadgar retracted his hand. Callan sighed, of _course_ they'd be too cautious around each other to notice, or accept, the obvious attraction growing between them. Honestly, sometimes Callan felt like his father was the densest person he knew.

“Spying?” A voice asked from behind him, making him jump. When he turned, it was just Aunt Taria. She was looking past him with a fond smile. “You see it too, don't you?”

“Yeah, but I don't think dad does. Or he doesn't know how to deal with it.”

“Hm, wouldn't surprise me. Your father has always been a little stupid when it came to this kind of thing. Your mother was the one to ask him on a date, you know.”

Callan laughed, “Yeah, he told me that. Unfortunately, I don’t think Khadgar is quite as bold as mom was.”

“Definitely not. They're going to have to figure it out together this time,” she touched his arm gently. “Are you okay with this, Callan? I can't imagine it easy to watch him move on, never mind with a man.”

“Honestly, Aunt Taria, I'm just glad he's finally found someone who makes him smile like that again,” he glanced over his shoulder at his father. “I would've never guessed Khadgar was his type, but I don't care. I just want him to be happy again, he deserves it.”

“I couldn't agree with you more.”

“I just hope dad realizes what's going on before it's too late.”

“Me, too.”

* * *

 

Lothar didn't know what kept coming over him. When he looked at Khadgar he wanted to hold him, wanted to be with him in a way he knew moved farther than mere friendship. Now, Lothar wasn't unfamiliar with raw attraction to people, and he realized years ago that their gender didn't particularly matter to him, but this? What he was feeling now? It was more than that.

He hadn't felt this… This fondness in his heart in a very long time. He hadn't felt like he wanted to just get to know someone inside and out, spend time with them without it ending in him getting laid in a very long time. So long, in fact, that he wasn't sure he knew what he was feeling. Callan’s mother was the first person to ever pull his heart in this way, and he'd always thought she'd be the last. But now, looking across the table and watching Khadgar read, that tug was back.

He felt guilty, for a moment. But then, then he wondered if maybe it was time. It'd been so many years since his wife passed, and he didn't doubt if she could smack him for being so closed off for so long, she would. At times, he thought Khadgar maybe felt the same way about him. Their eyes and touches lingered longer than what was considered ‘normal’ or ‘acceptable’ between friends. But how could he know for sure? The last thing Lothar wanted to do was scare him off. He'd been through so much, and Lothar was scared to make an advance. Scared that Khadgar would back away in fear.

He would never forgive himself if Khadgar saw him the way he saw the other men—the ones who had used him like he was nothing. No, as much as he wanted to try and test the waters, he couldn't. He couldn't risk losing him.

Suddenly, Khadgar stood. Lothar followed, more out of shock than anything, “There’s someone I have to go see.”

“I’ll escort you.”

“I, uh,” Khadgar bit his lip, which just drew Lothar’s eyes down to his mouth. He had quite a nice mouth, and Lothar couldn’t help but wonder what sounds— “I would prefer to go alone.”

He’d promised Llane that Khadgar would have a guard at all times, but he didn’t want him to feel like a prisoner. Lothar trusted him. “Will you back for dinner?”

“Yes, it shouldn’t take long.”

“Okay,” Lothar nodded, “I’ll wait here.”

He watched Khadgar leave, a strange feeling in his gut. He’d betrayed a direct order from his King, and broke a promise to his best friend. He knew that Khadgar was trustworthy, and he had no doubts that everything would be fine.

* * *

 

Khadgar felt strange in the Cathedral. Priests and mages got along fine, but tended to stay on different paths. They only really interacted when completely necessary. So for him to be seeking out a priest? It was causing a few suspicious glances. Ariadne, for the most part, seemed pleased to see him.

“Khadgar!” She said happily, pulling him into a brief hug. “Have your wounds healed well?”

“Yes, thank you.”

Her eyes went wide, and then she hugged him again, “You got your voice back, thank the Light!”

“Yes, the Guardian was able to help me reverse the spell. I… I still can’t believe it worked, honestly.”

“I’m so glad for you, and Sir Lothar must be pleased.”

Khadgar frowned, “Why do you say that?”

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to imply anything,” Ariadne said sheepishly. “I just meant, he cares for you deeply. Even before we healed you, he held such concern.”

“I’m sure he would for anyone,” He was a man of the people, after all. Part of what made him such a great Commander was how seriously he took his job, which meant he cared for the well-being of _everyone_ in Stormwind. Khadgar wasn’t any different than them. Then again, Lothar had gone above and beyond caring for his wounds. Even now, Khadgar was better than ever and he still insisted that he stay in Stormwind—in the castle.

“If you say so.”

Khadgar shook the thought from his head, “Anyway, I just wanted to find you to say thank you. You kept my secret. You had no idea who I was, or the circumstances behind my leaving, but you still told no one. Thank you.”

“Of course. It wasn’t my secret to tell.”

“I have to ask,” Khadgar lowered his voice and stepped closer, “Did word of my leaving really reach this far?”

“Not everyone knows,” she admitted. “My brother was… given to the Kirin Tor when I was three. I seek out any outgoing information about them, just in case he ever…”

Khadgar patted her shoulder gently, “I’m sorry.”

“There’s hope for him, Khadgar. Thanks to you,” Ariadne smiled so brightly, with such hope, Khadgar couldn’t help but smile back. He didn’t have the heart to tell her that him leaving the Kirin Tor likely just made things worse, harder, for those who remained. It was a guilt he would live with for the rest of his life.

He said his goodbyes to Ariadne, promising to visit if he was ever in Cathedral Square. He glanced at the clock tower, glad to see he still had plenty time to get back to the library before they would be expected for dinner. For the first time since arriving in Stormwind, he felt safe as he walked the streets. He felt as if he belonged.

What Khadgar was starting to learn, was that when things felt as if they were going all right, they were doomed to go wrong. He’d almost made it back to the castle when a voice called out behind him. He froze, the sound sending shivers down his spine, and all sense of safety, of belonging, flooded out of him.

“Haven’t seen you around much, little lamb,” the voice said. Khadgar wanted to keep moving, to ignore him. But he couldn’t. “Where did you run off to?”

The voice was getting closer, and Khadgar could feel the fear rising in his throat. This wasn’t right—this wasn’t supposed to happen. This was supposed to be in his past.

“It’s really not nice to ignore people,” the voice hissed. It was close—too close. “C’mon, let’s go somewhere more _private_.”

A meaty, sweaty hand landed on his hip, and Khadgar exploded with anger. He didn’t think before he turned, a spell falling from his lips. The man was pushed backwards, ten feet off the ground and against the side of a building. Before he could do any more, guards were surrounding him, telling him to put the man down. So Khadgar did. He let the pig drop heavily onto the cobblestone floor. There was a _crack_ , the distinct sound of a bone breaking, then a wail of pain. It was so, so satisfying.

The next thing he knew, he was being restrained—gag and all. He didn’t argue as the guards led him to a cell. He didn’t regret what he did. If anything, he regretted not doing more. That man deserved so, so much worse.

* * *

 

Lothar knew something bad had happened when a guard arrived in the library, breathless, with an official summons from the King. He tried not to think about what could’ve happened, but his brain couldn’t help but go to the worst scenarios. Had he been wrong about Khadgar?

He shook his head quickly, expelling the thought. He wasn’t wrong about Khadgar; he couldn’t have been. No one was that good of an actor. It had to be something else, though the other options his brain was providing weren’t much better.

When he arrived in the throne room, Llane was pacing back and forth. Behind him, Taria looked confused, and upset. “You were given orders, Lothar,” he almost shouted. “I agreed to Khadgar staying in the city _if_ , and _only if_ he was accompanied by a guard at all times. Not even one day passed and already you betrayed those orders!”

“He isn’t a prisoner,” Lothar argued back. “I trust him.”

“Well he is now,” Lothar couldn’t hide the shock, the confusion, on his face. What in the hell had Khadgar done? “Don’t give me that look—I _told_ you something like this would happen!”

“What… what did he do?”

“He attacked a civilian,” Llane explained. “Pinned him against a wall with his magic which you _know_ is strictly forbidden within city borders unless in specified training grounds.”

“There has to be a reason, Llane.”

“I don’t _care_ if there’s a reason, this proves that he’s dangerous—unpredictable like the rest of them!”

“Please,” Lothar begged, stepping forward. “Let me find out what happened.”

“It doesn’t matter. I want him out of this city tomorrow,” Llane said strictly.

“Llane, you’re being unreasonable.”

“No, I’m not. You’ve obviously gotten too close to him to make proper judgements. You’re bias towards him, and I can’t keep giving him passes because of that. We are to protect _Stormwind_. He obviously poses a threat.”

“This is ridiculous. Taria, you can’t seriously be letting this happen,” Lothar said, turning his gaze on his sister. “It’s _Khadgar_. He’s not dangerous!”

“Anduin, I… He hurt someone. Badly. That can’t go ignored.”

“And he probably had a good reason for it! Can I just remind you two that in the months before I found him he was abused, _raped_?” Lothar shouted. They both flinched, and rightfully so. “What if that was one of them? What would you expect him to do?”

“We would expect him to act reasonably. To get a guard, to come find you if he was too uncomfortable with the guards. Or, to ignore it. He could’ve kept walking; the guards wouldn’t have let the man into the castle.”

 “Let me go talk to him, get to the bottom of this.”

“No, Anduin,” Llane said, “You’re too close to him. My decision is made, and you are under direct orders to stay away from the cells until he leaves. Do you understand?”

“You can’t ask me to do that,” Lothar said quietly. “You can’t ask me to just let him go.”

“I have no choice. We cannot show bias. If we let him get away with this, then others will follow,” Llane clapped him on the shoulder. “I’m sorry, Anduin, but this is what’s best for Stormwind.”

“I can’t,” he shook his head, stepping back from his King. “I only just found him, I can’t let him go.”

“What are you saying?”

“If you banish him from Stormwind, I will go with him.”

“Why?” Llane asked. “You barely know him, Lothar.”

Lothar just shook his head, “Sometimes you just know someone is meant to be in your life. You were one of the first people I thought that about, and Medivh. Then, Callan’s mother. I may not know Khadgar that well, but by the Light obviously something is connecting our lives together. I’m not going to purposefully go against that.”

“If you think this is going to get me to change my mind, it’s not.”

“I don’t. But don’t think I’m not serious about going. What would you do if Taria was to be taken from you?”

“That’s different, Anduin,” Llane shook his head, as if the idea of Khadgar being to Lothar what Taria was to him was ridiculous. “She’s my wife.”

“It’s not as different as you think,” Lothar said, and with that, he left the room.

* * *

 

Khadgar stared at Lothar, who was standing directly outside his cell with his arms crossed and an incredibly determined frown on his face. Khadgar was still trying to process the chunk of information that had been thrown at him all at once when Lothar arrived. He was being kicked out of Stormwind. That was expected. Lothar disagreed with the decision, also relatively predictable.

Except Lothar disagreed so much, he told the King that he would be going _with_ Khadgar. That was ridiculous. Once he’d more or less realized that, yes, that is _exactly_ what Lothar had said, he shook his head, “No.”

“What do you mean _no_?”

“I mean, that is absolutely ridiculous, Lothar. You’re the Commander. You are not abandoning Stormwind to follow me—may I remind you that I am a rogue mage? A disgrace to my family, to myself?”

“I don’t care, Llane is being unreasonable.”

“He’s not, though,” Khadgar said, standing and walking over to Lothar. “I broke the law. I knew magic was forbidden in the city, and I let my emotions get the better of me.”

“Exactly! You made a _mistake_.”

Khadgar shook his head sadly, “It’s too dangerous for me to be here. I can’t just go around slamming people against walls, even if they deserve it.”

“But… but _they_ should be the ones in jail, not you.”

“I wanted to do more, Lothar,” Khadgar said quietly. “I wanted to hurt him as much as he hurt me—that scared me. I don’t want to feel that rage again.”

Lothar dropped his gaze to the ground, shoulders drooping in defeat, “I don’t want you to go. I’m not ready for you to go, yet.”

“It’s not forever,” Khadgar lied. “I’m sure I’ll see you again.”

“Just let me come with you.”

“No.”

“Khadgar, c’mon,” Lothar sighed. “Callan is more than ready to take on my job.”

“You can’t just leave Stormwind. This is your home, it’s where your family is.”

“My family are all grown, they can care for themselves.”

Khadgar shook his head, “Are you hearing yourself? This is ridiculous.”

“It’s ridiculous that I want to stay with you.”

“Yes!” Khadgar shouted. “You don’t know me, Lothar. We’ve had maybe three conversations. When you found me, I was nothing more than a starving beggar, a toy for people to use. You felt pity, and you cling to that emotion like it’s something more than that, but it’s not. You pitied me. You don’t have to anymore—I’ll be fine.”

“Don’t belittle my emotions.”

Khadgar turned away, squeezing his eyes shut tightly. He didn’t want to do this—he didn’t want to lose the only friend he’d ever had, but he couldn’t let Lothar give up everything for him. If the only way he could keep him in Stormwind was for Khadgar to hurt him, so be it. “I don’t want you to come with me.”

“What?”

“You mistake my gratitude for something… more. I’m thankful that you saved my life, and that you aided me in getting my voice back, but that’s…” he took a deep breath, “That’s it. There’s nothing more than gratitude, Lothar.”

“Don’t lie to me, Khadgar.”

“I’m not lying to you,” Khadgar hissed. He couldn’t make eye contact, couldn’t see the hurt in Lothar’s eyes that was so present in his voice. “Believe it or not, not everyone who comes into your presence is charmed by you.”

“I wasn’t insinuating—”

“Thank you for what you did, but I think you should leave now.”

“Are you kidding me, bookworm?” Lothar shouted. Khadgar forced himself not to flinch. “After everything we’ve been through? You’re lying!”

“Guards, please take him away from me.” Khadgar said, his voice stronger than he felt. Amazingly, they listened to him. But try as he may, Khadgar couldn’t ignore Lothar as he was dragged from the room, struggling and yelling.

“Don’t do this to me!” He shouted. “Khadgar! I trusted you, don’t lie to me!”

He was glad he was facing away from the door, as tears began to spill down his cheeks. He felt such a loss in his heart already. He tried not to think about the gentle touches and tender looks that they had shared—the potential that Khadgar had felt. He tried not to think about what he was giving up, but why he was giving it up.

Lothar belonged here, in Stormwind. Obviously, Khadgar did not. Sometimes, things just didn’t work the way you wanted them to. Sometimes, fate had other ideas. Apparently fate did not think him and Lothar belonged together.


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I meant to have this up last night, but friends showed up and dragged me out unexpectedly. Sorry for the wait! Thank you again to everyone leaving comments, you guys make this story so much fun to write! I hope this chapter mends some broken hearts. <3

_—One Year Later—_

Khadgar felt anxious as he sat, waiting for Lothar in the small room. He began to flip idly through one of the books on the table in front of him, desperately trying to calm the rising worry and panic in his heart. He tried to stop himself from thinking about the last time he was in Stormwind, but the words he’d shared with Lothar, what he _forced_ himself to say… it still pained him to think about it. The door to his right opened, and Khadgar glanced up to see—his heartbeat quickened in his chest at the mere sight of Lothar. He didn’t look too different. Maybe a bit more tired, and stressed, but just as breathtaking as Khadgar remembered. Lothar seemed to freeze, too, as their eyes met. Not that he hadn’t been informed who was waiting for him. Though maybe that was why Khadgar waited for so long.

When he spoke, his voice was emotionless. “What are you doing back in my city, spell-chucker?”

“I… there was a…” he swallowed around the nervousness rising in his throat. Now that Lothar was _there_ and _real_ he was struggling to hold the confidence he had when he’d stormed back into the city demanding to see him. “There’s been an attack, at Karazhan.”

“What?”

“I was training with Medivh. Cleaning, really, for the most part, and—and everything just happened so quickly. I didn’t know where else to go.”

“What of Medivh? Why isn’t he with you, is he alright?”

“I… I don’t know,” Khadgar kept trying to think back to what happened, to find his way through the darkness in his mind. But all that he could remember were shadows and horrible, blood curdling noises. “I was knocked out, I think, during the fight. When I awoke, he was gone. I wanted to stay, wait to see if he returned, but Karazhan…” he trailed off, shuddering at the memory of the place now, “it’s like it’s alive. I kept hearing things, seeing shadows.”

“What, and a powerful mage like yourself can’t handle a few petty shadows?”

Khadgar felt anger rise in his throat. How _dare_ Lothar belittle this, how _dare_ he assume to know what it was like—what was going on. This was too much for him to even begin to comprehend. “You need to put your anger at me aside, Lothar. This is serious. It’s _Karazhan_ we’re talking about. ‘Petty shadows,’ as you call them, become incredibly dangerous when you consider the tower is literally teeming with magic.”

“So you left, knowing that it was a possibility Medivh was still there somewhere, likely injured?”

“You weren’t there,” Khadgar said. “You don’t know what it’s like.”

“Even magical, they’re still shadows. You’re just a coward; you run as soon as things get hard.”

“How _dare_ you,” Khadgar hissed, slamming his hands down on the desk as he stood. “I am no coward, Anduin Lothar. I just know when staying becomes nothing more than a death wish. Now, if you could just pull your head out of your ass long enough to—”

Lothar moved quickly, too quickly for Khadgar to stop him as he was slammed down against the hard wooden desk, one of Lothar’s hands pinning his arms above his head while the other covered his mouth roughly. Obviously he’d learned a thing or two about mages since Khadgar had left.

He tried not to react, tried to remember that he once considered Lothar to be _safe_ , but he couldn’t. He couldn’t ignore the familiar feeling of losing control, of being dominated and helpless. He flinched, and squeezed his eyes shut in fear as tears immediately welled in his eyes. He could hear Lothar breathing heavily above him, a familiar sound in this position. His heart pounded in his chest as he prayed to the Light for Lothar to let him go. The hand holding his wrists loosened slightly, and Khadgar pried his eyes open. He couldn’t stop the few stray tears from rolling down his cheeks as he stared, wide-eyed up at the man who had once saved his life.

He watched as Lothar recognized the fear in his eyes. Almost instantly he was across the room, putting as much distance between them as the small space would allow. He cast his eyes to the floor, clearly ashamed. “I’m sorry,” he said quietly. “I… I shouldn’t have done that.”

“It’s fine,” Khadgar lied. “You’re worried about your friend, and obviously still very angry with me.”

“That’s no excuse for me to take such physical action.”

“I probably deserve it; after everything I’ve said to you.”

“How many times do I have to tell you, Khadgar, you don’t _deserve_ to be hurt.”

“Why not? I hurt you.”

Lothar was quiet a moment. Khadgar couldn’t bring himself to look, to see what he’d done to their relationship. “Yeah, you did.”

“So you reserve every right to be angry with me.”

“And I am, but that doesn’t make it okay for me to hurt you, or scare you.”

Khadgar frowned. That feeling in his chest—the tug that urged him to move closer to Lothar, to cling to him like a lifeline—was back, and stronger than ever. It’d been so long since he felt it, since they’d seen each other. He’d hoped it would be gone, but he never did get far with hope.

“I need your help,” Khadgar said quietly, forcing himself to ignore the feelings. “I can’t find Medivh on my own, and I have a bad feeling that the worst has yet to come.”

Slowly, Lothar nodded. “I’ll inform Llane and send some troops to Karazhan. We’ll get there first, but it’ll give us time to get a better look.”

He headed towards the door, pausing with his hand on the handle. “Stay here. I mean it this time, Khadgar.”

“I will.”

* * *

 

The last thing Lothar wanted to do was tell Llane that Khadgar was back. It had taken months to repair the damage that he—that _Lothar_ did to their relationship. He had to stop blaming Khadgar, as much as he wanted to. Llane had pulled the ‘told-you-so’ card, which had only made Lothar angry, adding to the pain he was already experiencing with a vengeance. He’d spent almost a week straight rotting in the _Lion’s Pride_ tavern in Goldshire. He’d hoped that it’d be far enough away his sister wouldn’t be able to find him and meddle, but she did. As she always did.

Taria forced him and Llane to interact until they inevitably forgave each other. And now, he was about to go in there and throw all that effort to the wind. He was about to reopen old arguments and once again threaten his relationship with his best friend and King over a stupid mage. With a final, deep breath, he walked into the throne room with his head held high.

“Anduin, I haven’t seen you all morning,” Llane said. “Where did you run off to?”

“The guards captured someone breaking into the barracks, specifically requesting to see me.”

“Oh?”

“Khadgar is back,” Lothar said, all in one breath. Llane’s expression darkened immediately. “Medivh is in trouble.”

“You trust what that mage says? After all that he’s done to you?”

“We know he’s been training with Medivh since he left, that much is fact. And the panic in his voice and eyes was very real.”

“We can’t trust him.”

“What if he’s telling the truth, Llane? This is Medivh’s life on the line—the _Guardian’s_ life on the line.”

Llane shook his head, “Precisely. The Guardian is fully capable of handling himself.”

“And if he’s not? If we send Khadgar away and find out Medivh perished because of our distrust?” Lothar asked. “What then, how could we life with ourselves knowing we caused his demise?”

“But that mage—”

“You told me not to hold a bias for him when you forced him to leave the city, yet you expect me to hold a bias _against_ him now that he’s back?”

“Anduin…”

“I couldn’t live with myself if I didn’t look into this only to find out that it was a real threat, that what Khadgar says is true.”

Llane sighed, “Fine. You may go with him.”

“I’ll be sending 10 troops to Karazhan, to meet us there. If there _is_ a real threat, I want to be prepared.

“Fine. But Anduin?” Llane asked, stopping him before he left. “Be careful.”

“I always am,” Lothar responded. “But I don’t think Khadgar would hurt me.”

_Not physically, anyway,_ he thought. But it was probably best to keep that information to himself. Emotionally, though? Emotionally, Khadgar was already hurting him. Seeing him just brought everything back, like opening a wound that hadn’t fully healed. All the things he felt were back, tinged with bitterness from the knowledge that Khadgar saw him as nothing more than a kind Commander. Not even a friend, never mind anything… more.

It was going to be a long journey.

* * *

 

“We’re taking a portal,” Khadgar insisted for the third time. “It's faster.”

“No, we’re taking a gryphon,” Lothar argued back, again. “I'm not going into potential danger without an escape plan.”

“A portal _is_ an escape plan.”

“And if you're too tired? Or… Incapacitated?” Lothar asked. “Then what?”

“We don't have _time_ to fly, Lothar!” He shouted, the desperation he was feeling coming through clearly in his voice. “We have to go _now_! Medivh could be hurt and trying to fight those shadows alone, if he's not—if he's still—”

“Khadgar,” Lothar said, stopping his pacing with his hands on his shoulders. Khadgar froze, and stared until he dropped his hands back to his side. Khadgar missed their warmth instantly. “Stop panicking.”

“Can we please just portal?”

“No, flying is safer. You need to keep your strength if things are as bad as you say they are.”

“I _hate_ flying,” Khadgar admitted. “And I… I really have no clue how to drive one.”

“Do you honestly think I'd put you in charge of one of the birds? They're only for high-ranking officials to use.”

“Oh, so we’d…”

“Share, yes. I realize you probably don't want to spend that long in my presence, but we don't really have another choice.”

Khadgar’s heart broke at the statement, more so at how easily his lies were believed. Lothar truly thought he meant nothing to him. He truly believed that Khadgar was simply thankful for being saved, nothing more. He wanted to say something, but it didn't feel like the right time. Lothar was already walking away, mumbling under his breath about how he would go get supplies, and that Khadgar was to meet him in the Trade District. He had no choice but to once again watch him go.

He made his way slowly out of the castle, looping far away from Old Town and all the negative memories that were there. Stormwind really hadn't changed, not in the slightest. He received some looks from the citizens, likely due to the robes he had been gifted from Medivh. They definitely marked him in a crowd as a mage.

The Trade District was bustling as always with merchants trying to sell their wares, and people socializing happily with one another. None of them knew the horrors going on in Karazhan. None of them knew that the person meant to be protecting them was in danger. They could just keep living their lives, happy and careless. Khadgar was only slightly jealous.

He reached the gryphon’s keep before Lothar, as expected. He kept his distance from the birds as he waited, positive they were eyeing him with uncertainty. The last thing he wanted to do was piss off one of them. He doubted the King would appreciate losing one, even if it _was_ done in self defence.

“Honestly, they're not going to hurt you,” Lothar said from behind him. “They're practically harmless.”

“Harmless?” Khadgar squeaked. “They could kill me with the lift of one talon.”

“They could, but they wouldn't.”

“If you say so,” Khadgar watched him approach one of the gryphons, patting its beak with a broad smile. The bird seemed happy to see him, jumping from one foot to the other as it squeaked excitedly. He attached their supplies to its saddle, and from the sounds of one of the bags Lothar had put his armour inside. Khadgar was thankful he wouldn't have to hold onto the cold plate as they flew. It was unpleasant enough as it was.

He watched Lothar climb into the saddle and, amazingly offer him a hand. Khadgar stared at it until Lothar sighed, “It's not going to bite you, spell-chucker.”

Khadgar frowned, but took the offered help. The saddle was no more comfortable than he remembered. If anything, it was worse than ever. He wanted to hold on tight, wrap his arms around Lothar’s middle as he had before. But it felt wrong to do that now, after everything that happened. Instead, he gripped the back of the saddle tight enough for his knuckles to go white.

“Aren't you going to hold on?” Lothar asked.

“I'm fine, lets just go.”

“Suit yourself,” he said, and urged the bird forward. As soon as the it rose onto its hind legs, all courage he had rushed from his body. He immediately let go of the saddle, wrapping his arms tightly around Lothar instead. He felt him chuckle, actually chuckle, and suddenly his heart felt lighter. “You'll get used to it one day, I swear!”

“You continue to assume I'll be making this a more frequent thing. If you weren't so damn stubborn, I wouldn't even be _on_ this bird.”

“I wouldn't let you fall,” Lothar shouted back. Khadgar felt himself blush. He wished he could go back, stop himself from breaking what they had. Not a moment passed in the year that he was gone that he didn't regret what he’d said. That he didn't miss Lothar’s kind heart and gentle eyes. He wished he could fix it, but he didn't know where to begin.

They had no choice but to stop half way to Karazhan. It was getting dark, and though Lothar was sure they'd reach the tower by nightfall, Khadgar insisted it wasn't safe to go at night. Not if they had a chance at finding Medivh without running into problems. No, it would be better for them to wait until morning.

Lothar tasked him to make a fire, insisting that he didn't want the tent falling on them in the middle of the night. Khadgar forced himself not to argue, or comment. Instead, he did as told. Unlike he was sure Lothar expected, he didn't use his magic to light the fire. It was a waste of energy, and it was just as simple to do it by hand. Lothar seemed shocked, unsurprisingly, but only raised an eyebrow as he sat across the fire from Khadgar.

He handed him food from the kitchens, which only need be reheated over the flames. The ate in silence, painful silence that Khadgar _hated_. There was such awkwardness, tension, in the air that hadn't been there before. He just wanted to return to what they had—to continue exploring what they _could've_ had.

“I'm sorry,” Khadgar said quietly into the night.

“What?”

“I'm sorry, for what I said to you before I left.”

Lothar sighed, “You don't have to apologize for being honest, Khadgar. I'd rather know the truth than go on thinking you felt something else, something more.”

“I wasn't being honest,” Khadgar admitted. “I lied to you. I… said what I had to say.”

“What are you talking about?” Lothar asked.

“When you said you were planning to leave, to follow me, I knew I couldn't let you. Your place is in Stormwind, next to your King. I didn't belong there, but you did,” he explained, keeping his eyes fixated on the ground. “I didn't mean what I said. Of _course_ you're more to me than just… just someone who saved me. Of _course_ I saw you as a friend—or a potential one at least.”

“You lied to me, hurt me, because you thought you had the right to decide what was best for me? Why wasn't I allowed to make that decision on my own?”

“Because I wasn't worth it, Lothar. I wasn't worth you giving up everything, everyone, in your life.”

“That wasn't your choice to make!” Lothar shouted. “What if you _were_ worth it, to me? You took that choice from me.”

“I couldn't let you do it,” Khadgar said sadly, “I wanted to. I really, really did. I wanted you to come with me, to continue to get to know you, but I couldn't. I couldn't just ignore what you'd be forced to leave behind— _who_ you'd be forced to leave behind.”

“I spent this past year forcing myself not to go to Karazhan, not to come find you. Do you understand how hard that was for me?” Lothar asked. “I cared for you, Khadgar. I wanted to care for you, and you threw that away.”

“I know. I wish I hadn’t, that it couldn’t been different, but I don’t regret my decision.”

Lothar said nothing. He stared across the fire, his blue eyes piercing and sad. Khadgar just wanted things to be better, to return to how they were. But Lothar shook his head and stood. “Go, sleep. I’ll take the first watch.”

He knew better than to argue now, so Khadgar did as told.

* * *

 

When he was sure Khadgar was asleep, Lothar allowed himself to look. To process all the new information he’d been given. For months he told himself it wasn’t possible for Khadgar to see him as nothing more than a kind helping hand. For months, he tried to argue with what had been said because he _saw_ something in Khadgar’s eyes when he looked at him. But he forced himself to stop, to believe the lies because he had no choice. Now all his suspicious were confirmed. Khadgar wasn’t as heartless as Lothar tried to convince himself he was.

He’d lied to protect him. Lothar wanted to be angry, to defend his right to choose for himself, but he knew that he would’ve done the exact same thing. Because as much as it pained him to admit, Khadgar was right. He couldn’t leave Stormwind. He couldn’t abandon his duties, or his son. His judgement had been clouded by… by the familiar feelings in his heart that drew him to the mage. He didn’t want to lose that again, and he had been prepared to follow Khadgar to the end of the world.

But the damn kid made sure he wouldn’t. From the sadness in his eyes, Lothar could only imagine that it hurt him, too. Yet he said what he did and ran. He destroyed his reputation and left—for Lothar’s sake.

He couldn’t stop staring at him, so peaceful in sleep. He’d changed so much in the year he’d been gone. He was more confident, more sure of the power he possessed. It was almost as if the arcane hummed under his skin, illuminating it, but Lothar assumed it was just Khadgar’s natural skin tone—his _healthy_ skin tone. Because more than anything, he looked healthy now. He gained some weight, a clear sign of having meals at least twice daily. If anything, it just made him more attractive.

He stared at the mage’s face, an incredible fondness growing in his heart. His cheeks had puffed out with his healthy weight, no longer sunken and dark but now round and almost always slightly flushed. He wanted to run his fingers across Khadgar’s skin, to press kisses where there were once bruises.

He’d tried so hard to get rid of what he had felt for Khadgar. He spent most of the year telling himself that it had all been imagined, that he had confused empathy with attraction. Now that he was back, Lothar knew what he felt had nothing to do with the sad state he found the mage in. Because here he was, healthy and relatively happy, and if anything the things Lothar felt before were back, and stronger than ever.

Not for the first time, he felt like Khadgar was going to cause him some serious trouble.

* * *

 

When he woke the next morning, Lothar found Khadgar fast asleep outside the tent—where he was _supposed_ to be on watch. He should've been angry, considering this wasn't the safest area, but Khadgar looked so… adorable was really the only word that Lothar could think to describe it. He was curled up in his cloak, mouth hanging open slightly as he snored quietly.

Lothar kneeled down next to him, gently brushing his hair off his forehead. He tried not to think too much about what he was doing, or why he was doing it. It just felt right. He moved his hand down to Khadgar’s shoulder, shaking gently. The mage woke with a start, eyes glowing blue as the beginnings of a spell fell from his lips. Lothar smacked his hand over Khadgar’s mouth quickly and, thankfully, watched the spell fade.

“You were supposed to be on watch, spell-chucker,” Lothar teased.

Khadgar shook his hand off, rubbing the back of his neck sheepishly, “Sorry, I don't even remember dozing off…”

“It's fine.”

They ate breakfast in silence, but it was less awkward than it had been in the past. The silence wasn't because of anger or ill will between them anymore, now it was more the anticipation of reaching Karazhan and what they were about to face. He could almost see the wheels turning in Khadgar’s head as he thought. “It's going to be alright, Khadgar. If I know Medivh, I know he wouldn't give up without a fight.”

Khadgar nodded, “I hope you're right.”

They finished their food in silence, and packed up their camp. Even the gryphon seemed to understand the solemn mood in the air, it's excitement being replaced by a bizarre seriousness. Lothar once again offered a hand, and this time Khadgar didn't hesitate in taking it. He wrapped his arms around Lothar’s middle right away, and it was oddly comforting. He spurred the bird forward, towards Karazhan, and tried not to worry about what they were flying into.

He knew something was wrong as soon as they were within sight of Karazhan. He was used to seeing the energy, magic, flowing into the energy chamber. He was used to the air of power that always surrounded the tower. But this was… this was wrong. The magic flowing in wasn't the normal, wispy white, but a strange glowing green.

Behind him, Khadgar gasped. “Stop!” He shouted, and Lothar pulled back on the reigns of the bird.

“What is it, Khadgar? What's happened?”

“It's worse than I thought,” he said, grip on Lothar tightening. “That… Karazhan has been taken over by the Fel.”

 


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just want to clarify before the chapter starts: this is not the end!

“The Fel?” Lothar asked, twisting himself in the saddle to look Khadgar in the eyes. “What is that?”

“It's—it’s magic, dark magic. From what I've read, those who wield it pull their power from life forces. It's addictive, promising great power, but the cost…” He shook his head solemnly, “Fel corrupts everything it touches.”

“So if Karazhan is infected, does that mean Medivh…”

“No. He can't, it's not possible,” Khadgar bit his lip, clearly unsure of himself. “Mages can't access the Fel—we rely on the arcane.”

“So if Medivh isn't the one doing that, what is?”

Khadgar’s arms tightened around him, “I don't know.”

“We should wait for the soldiers I sent to arrive,” Lothar decided, urging his mount down towards the ground.

“Are you out of your mind?” Khadgar shouted. “We have to go now—who knows how bad things are up there. We need to make sure Medivh is okay.”

“Listen to yourself, Khadgar,” Lothar said as they landed heavily on solid ground. “We have _no_ idea what's waiting for us up there. Going alone could be suicide.”

“That's a risk I'm willing to take. My mentor, your _friend_ could be up there fighting who knows what alone. I can't just sit around and wait for a bunch of guards to show up.”

“We need to think this through, Khadgar!” Lothar shouted, dismounting. “I'm just as worried as you are, but we can't be reckless. We can't just march in there without a plan. We can't help if we’re dead the minute we get in the door.”

He began to pace absentmindedly in front of the gryphon. He could feel Khadgar’s eyes on him, angry and completely stubborn as always. Not for the first time, Lothar wished he would just _listen_ to him. He was damn tired of Khadgar thinking he knew what was best. He was a kid, for one, and he spent most of his life living in Dalaran. Sure, the Kirin Tor was rough, but he had no idea what it was like to go into battle. He was just such a _child_ sometimes.

“This is ridiculous,” Khadgar huffed, crossing his arms over his chest. “I'm not just going to sit here and wait idly. If you want to wait for your soldiers, fine. But I'm going _now_.”

“Khadgar—”

“No, I don't care. You can come with me or not, but I'm going now,” he, too, dismounted and began drawing runes on the ground.

“What are you doing?”

“Drawing up a portal.”

“You’re going to waste your energy.”

“Yes, well, I don't really have a choice.”

“Damnit, Khadgar!” Lothar shouted. “You're so damn stubborn. I'm not going to let you go in there alone, you _know_ that.”

“I'm not wasting another minute waiting.”

“Just get on the bloody bird!” Lothar hissed, climbing on himself and trying to resist the urge to strangle the mage. He slowed the mount down as they reached the tower. Even he could feel the pulse of the energy—of the Fel. He landed at the base of the tower, and Khadgar was out of the saddle almost before the gryphon’s feet had hit the ground. Lothar dismounted, too, and told his bird to stay put.

He pulled the bag with his armour off the saddle and ran after Khadgar, thankfully catching him at the base of the stairs with a hand on his arm, “Would you hang on two seconds, spell-chucker?”

“There's no _time._ ”

“I just need to put my armour on, Khadgar,” the mage looked like he was going to argue but thankfully, for his sake, he didn't. Lothar pulled his armour on with practiced ease, trying to blame the heaviness of the plate for the uncomfortable feeling in his chest. When he was ready, he nodded for Khadgar to continue, and they began their long journey up the stairs.

They stopped just before reaching the top so Lothar could catch his breath, which Khadgar had rolled his eyes at until Lothar reminded him that he was wearing full plate armour. While they waited they finally became aware of the noises from above. They were inhuman, unlike anything Lothar had ever heard. Even Khadgar, in all his determination, faltered at the sounds.

They shared a look and quietly creeped up the remaining stairs, making sure to stay close to the walls in hopes of getting a look at what they were facing before they attacked. The whole energy chamber was glowing green. The pool of arcane energy was no longer blue and bright, but green. The Fel, Lothar assumed. Before he could signal for them to advance, someone, no… some _thing_ walked into the Fel pool in the centre of the room.

“What is that?” Lothar whispered, but when he looked over at Khadgar the mage was white as a sheet. His eyes were wide, and his lips parted slightly in shock. “Khadgar, what is it?”

“That's…” he tore his eyes from the creature, looking at Lothar instead, “that's Medivh.”

* * *

 

Khadgar was aware of Lothar talking, asking questions, but it was like he was hearing it underwater. He was still trying to process that the creature, Fel-infused and dangerous, was Medivh. He didn't want to believe it, but it was clear as day. Medivh had been possessed, that was the only way to explain it. Mages couldn't use the Fel, but they could be taken over by demons just like everyone else.

“Khadgar,” Lothar hissed, bringing him to with a hand on his arm. “Are you sure that's Medivh?”

“Positive.”

“But you said mages couldn't—”

“They can't. He's… he's been possessed. By a demon. A powerful one from the looks of things.”

“What do we do? How do we get it out?”

Khadgar shook his head, “We don't; we can't.”

“Then what are we supposed to do?”

“We… we have to…” he could feel tears stinging his eyes. Once again, his emotions took control. He was supposed to be strong, but he couldn't. He couldn't do what he knew had to be done.

“What, Khadgar? We have to what?

“We have to kill him—it. We have to kill it,” he said quietly.

“And when we do? What happens to Medivh?”

Khadgar looked away, casting his eyes to the floor. He couldn’t say the words, couldn’t hurt Lothar again. He wished there was another way, wanted nothing more than to save his mentor, but the demon was so strong… Khadgar had no way of separating it from Medivh, and they couldn’t just let it live on. It was only a matter of time before it moved past Karazhan—moved to Stormwind.

Lothar seemed to understand, and though Khadgar expected him to argue, he did not. He looked broken, sad. Already preparing to deal with the loss of a dear friend, “I’m sorry, Lothar.”

“We do what we must, for Stormwind.”

Khadgar nodded, and scanned the room. There was nothing to use against him other than Lothar’s brute force and his magic. He just hoped that’d be enough, “It’s now or never.”

“Then let’s do this, together.” Lothar said, pulling his sword from its sheath. Khadgar nodded, and began to prep a spell. With a final, deep breath, he threw his hands forward, straight towards Medivh. It pulled his attention to Khadgar, exactly as he’d wanted it to. It began walking in his direction, out of the Fel pool. Lothar took the hint and charged while the demon was distracted, but before he could so much as raise his sword, Medivh’s head was whipping around and Lothar was being held in the air by a hand of green, Fel magic. Khadgar could hear the crunching of plate, and he knew he had to act. He shouted a spell, which the demon easily deflected, but Lothar was dropped to the floor. As he wanted.

He watched as Lothar slipped behind the giant golem that Medivh had started carving earlier in the month. Khadgar took the opportunity as Medivh searched for him to join Lothar behind the clay. “What’s the plan, mage?” Lothar asked.

“I don’t know, it’s too strong.”

“I told you we should’ve waited for my men to arrive.”

“That wouldn’t have helped,” Khadgar said. “It’s a miracle we’re still alive. Did you not notice Moroes when we entered? He had the life sucked from him—Medivh would’ve easily done so with your soldiers.”

“Then why hasn’t he done that to us?”

Khadgar shrugged, “Maybe… maybe Medivh is in there somewhere, conscious enough to recognize us. I don’t know, Lothar. Just be glad.”

Before Lothar could respond, Medivh began to chuckle in front of them. “What a fun idea! There’s two of you; only makes sense for me to even out the battle, does it not?”

Above them, the golem was infused with Fel magic, slowly coming to life. “Oh, great,” Lothar said. “Got any ideas what to do with this?”

Khadgar stared wide-eyed up at the golem, then to Medivh, then to Lothar. This situation was just getting worse, and honestly he had no idea how to handle it. Medivh was one thing, but now a golem, too? Lothar groaned, “I’ll deal with this, spell-chucker. You figure out how to stop Medivh.”

Khadgar nodded, and began to climb to the second floor of the energy chamber, hearing Lothar jump in front of the golem behind him. “Hey, over here! Clay face!” The next sound he heard was very distinctively stone being smashed, and Lothar shouting. He desperately hoped that the Commander would be able to handle the creature on his own. Not that Khadgar was feeling very confident in his ability to handle Medivh on his own. He just needed time to think, to figure out how to stop this thing. He’d read so many books in his year with Medivh, much to the Guardians annoyance, there had to be _something_.

Before he could think for too long, Medivh was heading his way. Khadgar barely had time to react, to shield himself, before the demon was standing before him. He reached out, and his fingertips began to pierce through the magic. Khadgar could feel the panic rising in his throat. He wasn’t strong enough, there was no way he was strong enough to defeat this demon.

The next thing he knew, a heavy stone hand was smashing through the pillar to his right, sending him flying like a child’s ball in his shield to the lower level, leaving Medivh on his own. Khadgar felt glad for a moment, until he realized what that meant—Lothar was now dealing with both the golem and Medivh. He watched in horror as the demon drew a spell and sent it directly towards Lothar. It took all his willpower not to scream.

* * *

 

Lothar had never been so glad for Medivh’s carelessness as he was now, the clay carving tool wrapped around the golem’s neck. He had just enough time to pull, as hard as he could, through the clay as Medivh faced him and a spell fell from his lips. The next thing Lothar knew, he was hanging out the window—the only thing stopping him from falling was his boots in the giant creature’s back.

By some miracle, the golem pulled itself up and forward, instead of falling back out the window, and Lothar found himself back in the chamber. His next problem? The golem was definitely going to crash into the wall, and his boots were very firmly buried in the clay.

“Fuck,” he hissed under his breath. He reached down, untying the garments as quickly as he could with shaking hands. The golem was teetering, and he knew it’d be a matter of seconds before he would be crushed between the giant lump of clay and the stone wall. Thankfully, oh Light so thankfully, he managed to untie his boots and jump from the creature with barely seconds to spare, his bare feet landing on the cold stone ground.

Before he had time to take a breath, Khadgar was in his arms. “I don’t think this is the time for hugs, kid.”

“I thought you’d fallen to your death!” The mage hissed. “If I wasn’t so glad to see you, I’d kill you.”

“Have you come up with a plan yet?” Lothar asked.

“Yes,” Khadgar said, then frowned. “Maybe… half a plan? You need to distract Medivh, get him into the pool of Fel.”

“What then?”

“The rest I’ll deal with. You just… don’t get killed.”

“Right, easy,” he clapped Khadgar on the shoulder. “Be careful.”

“You, too,” he said, and ran in the direction of the golem Lothar had just rid himself of.

Lothar ran back to the main level of the chamber, right to where Medivh was waiting. The demon turned on him instantly, a terrible smile distorting his features. He barely looked like Medivh anymore, almost all traces of his friend replaced with demonic features. His eyes… his eyes were the worst. Black as night, until he began to cast. Then that horrible, Fel green.

“Medivh,” Lothar said, “Medivh, if you’re in there somewhere, please. You have to fight this. You’re the strongest mage in Azeroth; if there’s anyone who can do this it’s you.”

“Sorry,” the demon said, and even the voice was distorted; mocking and almost musical, “but Medivh isn’t home right now.”

“I know you’re in there somewhere,” he took a step forward, inching closer ever so slowly. If he could just… shove him into the pool… “We’re all waiting for you, Medivh. We need you.”

He reached out, prepared to push, only to have a hand wrap around his neck, lifting him off the ground. The demon was far stronger than Medivh, and he seemed able to hold Lothar’s weight with ease as he carried him until he was over the Fel pool, feet dangling mere inches above it. “Medivh,” he choked, “Medivh, _please_.”

The demon threw him backwards, all the way across the space that once held such pure energy. He felt his ankle twist, but forced the pain to the back of his mind. He pushed himself up, slowly, and stared the demon down. “Well, go on. Kill me. I know you can,” he shouted. When the demon didn’t move, Lothar yelled louder. “Come _on_! I am not afraid to die.”

The demon took a step forward, into the Fel, and then another. He walked towards Lothar slowly, and only became more twisted as he did. The more human features of Medivh were distorted into what was very clearly a demon, horns and all. His eyes were glowing bright green, and that awful smile was even wider.

“Khadgar,” Lothar shouted, “whatever your plan was, do it _now_! Now, Khadgar! Now, now, _now!_ ”

He shouted the mage’s name again, but it was drowned out by the loud _smash_ of the golem, and Khadgar, falling into the pool of Fel—pinning the demon down and leaving it helpless. Lothar smiled, ready to celebrate, when he noticed Khadgar. He was standing slowly from the pool, fingertips glowing with Fel magic and—Lothar couldn’t help but gasp as his eyes faded from the glowing blue arcane… to the Fel green.

He started forward immediately, ready to attack, and Khadgar whipped his head to face him. The next thing Lothar knew, he was held in a barrier, a prison, of magic. But it was blue, arcane; Khadgar’s magic, not the magic of Fel. “Let me out!” He shouted.

“It’s not safe, Lothar.”

“I don’t care, I can help!”

“You can’t, I’m sorry,” Khadgar said, leaning down to put his hand on Medivh’s forehead.

“Khadgar!” Lothar shouted again, but the mage didn’t even blink. He was chanting something, some spell Lothar had never heard. And then, all at once, he was radiating this bright yellow light, filling the entire room until Lothar had no choice but to close his eyes. When he opened them, everything was dark. All traces of Fel seemed to be gone, and Khadgar was kneeling next to the presumably dead Medivh in the now-empty pool, head hung.

Lothar raced to Khadgar, falling to his knees in front of him. His hand went to the mage’s cheek instinctively. “Khadgar,” he said quietly, fear and nervousness rising in his throat. He didn’t know what he’d do if the demon had simply switched hosts, “show me your eyes.”

Khadgar looked up, his eyes the same, beautiful brown that they had always been. Lothar felt relief wash over him as he pushed his hand through Khadgar’s hair, his smile mirroring the one on his face. He pulled him into a tight hug, “I’m proud of you.”

“I’m sorry,” Khadgar said, burying his face into Lothar’s neck. “I… I couldn’t save him. I’m sorry.”

“Don’t apologize,” Lothar said firmly, pulling back so he could look into Khadgar’s eyes. “You did all you could.”

“ _We_ did all we could. I would’ve have been able to do this without your help,” he pushed himself to his feet, and began to draw a portal. “Now, let’s go home.”

* * *

 

When they arrived back in Stormwind, Lothar immediately went to find Llane with strict instructions to Khadgar to stay put in either the library or his room, which he was a little shocked to find he still had after his year away. He chose to head there, partially because the thought of reading after what they went through made him feel uneasy, but mostly because he felt _so tired_ after everything they’d done.

He fell onto the bed without bothering to remove even his boots, chuckling at the fact that Lothar had lost his in the battle. But his laughter quickly contorted into full sobs as he let the loss of his mentor sink in. He let himself cry for the first time since he left about losing Lothar, about what he had to do. He cried until his head pounded and exhaustion finally fell over him.

His sleep was restless, plagued by green eyes and Medivh’s lifeless body, distorted by the Fel. He was almost glad when he was woken by Lothar, a gentle hand on his cheek. It was familiar, but only reminded him what he lost. “I’m sorry to wake you,” Lothar said quietly. “But Llane would like to see you.”

“I can leave in the morning,” Khadgar said. “I just… I’m too tired to portal right now, I just need one night—”

“Just come with me.”

Khadgar did as told, because he couldn’t exactly turn down a summons from the King, but the nervousness made him feel like he was going to puke or pass out. Maybe both. He was led to the throne room, where the King and Queen were both waiting. He bowed deeply once they came to a stop. “I owe you an apology, Khadgar,” the King said, and he really wanted to pinch himself because he had to be dreaming.

“Sire, there is nothing you have to be sorry for.”

“I doubted you, mistrusted you because you were a mage bound by no rules,” he explained. “I shouldn’t have been so unfair to you, especially as my wife and Anduin both vouched for your trustworthiness. Magic is forbidden in Stormwind, but if there was ever a time for its use to be justified, it would be in your case.”

He stood from the throne, coming to stand directly in front of Khadgar, who desperately tried not to panic. “You then took it upon yourself to stop Anduin from following you, fully prepared to destroy your relationship with him in order to keep Stormwind safe.”

Khadgar could’ve gone without the reminder of what he lost, but he simply nodded, “It was the right thing to do.”

“So it was,” the King chuckled. “However, I do hope you will accept my formal apology for being so cruel to you. You have more than proven yourself to be a friend to Stormwind, and I appreciate that.”

“Of course I accept your apology,” Khadgar said. “You were just doing what you thought was best.”

“Thank you, Khadgar,” he smiled, putting a hand on his shoulder and squeezing gently. “There’s just one more matter of business we have to discuss. I understand that Medivh’s death is still very raw in everyone’s heart, and he will be dearly missed, but a new Guardian has to be appointed to take his place. We still don’t know how the demon found its way to Azeroth, and we could be preparing for a battle; Azeroth needs a Guardian.”

“I’m sure the Kirin Tor have been training his replacement,” Khadgar assured. “There were many promising apprentices when I was there.”

“True, but you were the most promising, were you not?”

He felt himself flush, embarrassingly, “Yes, but I renounced my vows.”

“That doesn’t matter. You’ve proven that you’re more than worthy of the position. You even spent a year with Medivh,” the King smiled again. “I would like for you to be the new Guardian, if you would be willing to accept the position?”

“I…” Khadgar looked at him, and the Queen, and finally to Lothar, who was smiling brightly at him, “Are you sure I’m qualified?”

“More than anyone the Kirin Tor could’ve found to replace you in the two years since you left.”

“They’ll be angry,” Khadgar said softly. “They expect to be the ones who make that choice, and they really aren’t fond of me.”

“Yes, well, when it comes down to it I have final say in who is given the position. The Kirin Tor can deal with it.”

Khadgar swallowed around the nervousness in his throat, “In that case, sire, I would be honored.”

* * *

 

Lothar insisted they celebrate his new position, and for the Commander that meant getting very, very drunk. Khadgar tried to protest, he really was tired, but there was a darkness in Lothar’s eyes that suggested he didn’t want to drink just to celebrate, but to forget. So he agreed to go, if not just to make sure Lothar would be okay.

They went to a tavern in the Dwarven District, both knowing better than to try to go back to Old Town. It was unlikely Khadgar would be recognized, but it wasn’t a risk either of them wanted to take. Not on this night. Lothar didn’t say much for the first four mugs of ale. Lots of silly congratulations and teasing Khadgar for not drinking. It wasn’t until mug five or six that the joy in his eyes started to fade, and his voice got softer.

“I can’t believe he’s gone.”

“I’m sorry, Lothar.”

“It’s not your fault, you did all you could,” he sighed, rubbing his eyes and finishing the rest of the ale in the mug in one go. “I just can’t help but wonder what allowed the demon to take over. If we could’ve prevented it.”

“I doubt it; demons are very crafty,” he explained. “They promise great power, amazing things. For some, it’s all too easy to get pulled into that.”

“I just feel like I didn’t do enough for him.”

“He cared for you deeply. You and the King were his best friends, and he was proud of what you both have accomplished.”

Lothar laughed darkly, finishing half of the mug of ale the waitress just placed on the table in one gulp. “So you got pretty close to him in the year you spent running from me, hey?”

“I wasn’t running from you.”

“Really? Because I think not talking to someone for a year would count as running.”

“It was what I had to do.”

“Stop that,” Lothar hissed. “Stop saying that. You don’t know what’s best for me, you can’t _choose_ what’s best for me.”

“You were going to sacrifice everything for a kid you barely knew. I made a calculated guess that maybe you’d regret that with time.”

“You just… you don’t _get it_ , do you?” Lothar slurred, taking another gulp of his drink. “You keep making decisions for me, and you need to just stop it. Like during the fight! You put me behind your damn magic bubble. You could’ve _died_.”

“Yes, and if you would’ve barrelled right into the fight like you were planning, you _would’ve_ died.”

“You need to stop making decisions for me, Khadgar! I’m a grown man, I can take care of myself!”

“Well sometimes we all need someone else looking out for us, too,” Khadgar shouted back. “Sometimes we need someone to tell us that we’re being _stupid_. Judgement is easily clouded—that’s why we surround ourselves with people who can help us see what’s right!”

“You hurt me,” Lothar said miserably. He was definitely drunk. “I _liked_ you. I thought—I thought I could’ve moved on, finally, and then you had to go and be an asshole.”

“Lothar…”

“No. What you did wasn’t fair,” he stood, teetering slightly, “and now every time I look at you I can’t see past that. I can’t _trust_ you.”

“You can’t trust me?” Khadgar gaped. “We just fought a _demon_ together and _you can’t trust me_?”

Lothar shook his head, “Not with my heart.”

Khadgar watched, dumbfounded, as he walked out of the tavern. His brain could barely process what had just happened, what Lothar meant. When things finally started making sense it was far too late—he was gone. Khadgar was left wondering how he could fix what he’d done. And the massive tab that Lothar had managed to rack up in the few hours they’d been there.

 


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh my god, I am terribly sorry for the wait on this chapter. Work has kind of been kicking my ass as of late, and I've had like 0 energy to do anything else. As much as I'd like to say that the chapters will start being daily again, I'm going to be working 5-7 day weeks with 8-10 hour days for all of August, so there will likely be slightly longer waits between the chapters and I apologize for that. However, I do promise the wait will never exceed one week (unless there's a damn good reason). Thank you so much for sticking around and bookmarking, leaving kudos, and commenting. You guys honestly make my day every single time you do!

The last thing Khadgar wanted to do was return to Karazhan. The thought alone made him feel queasy and anxious, but he knew he had to go. He couldn't just leave Medivh there. He had to be brought back to Stormwind so he could be given a proper burial—that was the only way that anyone would begin to heal. He knew he had to go for the King and Queen, for the people of Azeroth, for himself, and most importantly… for Lothar. He was putting on a brave face but Khadgar could tell he was hurting. He just hoped this would help.

He knew that he should tell someone he was going, but he really wasn't planning to be there long and he _knew_ it would just make Lothar worry. All he was going to do was port in, take Medivh’s body, and port out. It would be _fine_. So, instead of dealing with Lothar’s stubbornness Khadgar woke up before dawn and prepared to head out. If things went to plan, he could be back before the rest of the castle was even awake.

He ported directly into the energy chamber. He hoped that all the things that had been infesting Karazhan had left with the demon, but he really didn't want to test that theory alone. Khadgar knew it'd be safest to just get in and out as quickly as possible. Part of him longed to try and save some of the books—the thought of leaving all that knowledge behind and unattended broke his heart—but he knew it’d be foolish to try. He knew he'd have to talk to Lothar about coming back for the books together. Maybe even with a small team. They could clear out Karazhan and make sure that everything really was gone.  

The chamber was a mess, just as they left it. Khadgar's throat tightened as his eyes moved to the center of the room. The golem was still there, and under it Medivh's lifeless body. It was the first time he really got to look at his mentor, and his death was finally starting to sink in. Before this moment it hadn’t felt real. He had known, of course, in his mind that Medivh was dead, but it never really sunk in. It wasn’t until now, as Khadgar kneeled next to him, that he realized he was truly gone. He didn't bother trying to hide the tears that spilled down his cheeks.

Medivh had been so kind to him. Khadgar had ran to Karazhan with a heavy heart and no idea where else to go, expecting to be turned away or turned in. But Medivh had invited him inside, listened as Khadgar poured his broken heart out. He had offered him a place to stay in exchange for Khadgar ‘tidying’ the library. He never outwardly said he would mentor him, but somehow more of Khadgar's days were spent learning and practicing alongside the Guardian than anything else.

He had so much more to learn, so much more that Medivh was supposed to teach him. How was he supposed to be the Guardian—how was he supposed to live up to the legacy Medivh left behind?

“I'm not ready,” Khadgar said quietly into the empty room. “What if I mess it up? All of Azeroth depends on the Guardian, but up until Lothar came along I could barely take care of myself.”

With a sigh, he dropped his head into his hands. He knew he had to be strong, had to continue moving forward. The King and Queen believed in him, Lothar believed in him. He had to believe that he could do this. _You don't have to do it alone,_ Khadgar reminded himself, trying to calm the panic. _You never have to deal with anything alone again._

He began to move the golem slowly, making sure his magic was targeted only at the clay and not Medivh. Once the body was clear of debris, Khadgar began to draw the runes for the portal on the ground, taking special care to make sure it'd be large enough to take them both. Before he could finish, he felt the hair on the back of his neck stand on end. He turned his head slowly to glance over his shoulder and saw something move in the shadows. Cursing under his breath, Khadgar started moving quicker. He wished, not for the first time, that he didn’t need to use the runes. Medivh had been able to teleport with such ease, he could actually get out of danger if need be. Khadgar could barely port at all. Just as he finished the last rune, he was pushed back by what felt like a ball of pure energy. It slammed him roughly against the wall, and his vision blurred with pain.

Instinct took over as everything except the need to survive left his mind. The fear was replaced with anger and determination. He had to get back to Stormwind. He threw the first spell that came to mind in the direction of the shadow, and heard a wail. His confidence flared at the knowledge of the hit, and he took the opportunity to run back to the portal, pulling the magic up quickly. He felt, rather than saw, the sting of a cut across his stomach, but the creature seemed unable to approach him. Khadgar realized quickly that it seemed to be bound to the shadows—it could hurt him, but it couldn’t enter the portal. Knowing he was safe to teleport without bringing whatever it was back to Stormwind, he grabbed hold of Medivh and squeezed his eyes shut.

A person, rather than solid location, filled his vision and the next thing he knew, Lothar was shouting his name. The familiar sound eased his worry, and with the knowledge that they were safe Khadgar finally let the exhaustion take over.

* * *

 

When Khadgar woke up he was back in his room. It was bright, much brighter than when he arrived. He wondered how long he’d been asleep. Khadgar looked to his right, and found Lothar glaring daggers. He sighed, and felt the tightness of bandages around his stomach. “What were you thinking?” Lothar growled. “You had to know Karazhan was dangerous.”

“I had to get Medivh. It felt wrong leaving him there,” Khadgar said quietly, pushing himself into a sitting position and trying to hide his winces. Every muscle seemed to ache. “His place is here, among his friends and his people.”

“Why the hell did you go alone; do you have a death wish?”

“I knew you'd make a big deal out of it,” Khadgar explained. “I also knew it'd be faster for me to just port in and out. There was no need to worry you.”

“Yeah, well, it's a bit late for that.”

“I'm _fine_ , Lothar. Everything was fine.”

“You were attacked! You could've been killed!” Lothar shouted. “Why won't you let me keep you safe?”

“I'm supposed to be the Guardian, isn't it my job to keep _you_ safe now?”

“Khadgar,” Lothar sighed, “do you always have to be so difficult?”

“Just imagine how much more boring your life would be without me.”

Lothar smiled, thankfully, and pulled him into a tight hug, Khadgar couldn’t help the groan of pain that fell from his lips, “I wish you would've told me you were going, but thank you for doing it. You're right; it didn't feel right knowing he was still in that place alone.” He pulled away, just enough to make eye contact. “But next time, please don't go alone, alright?”

“Alright.”

“How are you feeling?” Lothar asked.

“I've been better,” Khadgar groaned, “but I've also been much worse.”

Lothar worried his bottom lip between his teeth, “I can get a healer up here to tend to your wounds.”

“I’m fine, Lothar,” he insisted. “I’ve never been a big fan of healing magic—it can dim your own magic sometimes and that’s not something I’m prepared to deal with right now.”

“I don’t like seeing you in pain.”

“I’ll be fine in no time. Just sore and tired,” Khadgar assured, “I just need to rest a bit.”

Lothar rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly. “About that,” he said, “the service for Medivh is scheduled to take place this evening, do you think you'll be okay to go?”

“That’s so soon,” Khadgar marvelled, waving off Lothar’s concerns. “How are they preparing everything in time?”

“Almost all of Stormwind is helping,” Lothar smiled sadly. “Llane figured that the sooner we put him to rest, the sooner we would all be able to begin the healing process. I think he still fears that there's more coming, he wants to make sure everyone is prepared.”

“He's a good King,” Khadgar stated, though he doubted he needed to tell that to Lothar. “He cares so much for his people, it's admirable.”

“The people always come first for Llane. Their safety and happiness are his top priority. It's why I'll fight alongside him until the bitter end.”

“And I'll fight alongside you, if you'll let me.” Lothar's smile faltered just slightly, just enough to cause concern. Khadgar looked away and tried to hide the hurt in his voice, “Or I can stay out of your way.”

Lothar reached out, grabbing his hand, “No, Khadgar, that's not—I didn't mean it like that. Of _course_ I want you fighting next to us. I just… I want to keep you safe, too.”

“You've helped me more than I can ever try to explain,” Khadgar said gently, squeezing Lothar's hand. “But I'm not the same guy you found in that alleyway, Lothar. I might not be as strong as you physically, but with my magic I can hold my own in a battle.”

“I know,” he smiled, “I know. You’ve more than proven yourself to me, spell-chucker.”

Khadgar's heart swelled at the compliment. Once again, Lothar seemed to be there to quiet all his doubts. But Lothar's drunken comment just kept playing over, and over again in his mind.

_“You can't trust me?”_

_“Not with my heart.”_

He wondered if Lothar even remembered the altercation. If he did, he was doing a damn good job of hiding it. The statement pretty much confirmed all the things that Khadgar feared. That before he left their relationship was bordering on something more. Not for the first time, he wished he wouldn't have had to leave. But now that he was back, he had the chance to make things right. He _had_ to make things right.

* * *

 

Lothar had sentenced Khadgar to spend the remainder of the day in his room, resting and recharging. When he was _finally_ permitted to leave his rooms, it was a mere half hour before the ceremony was due to take place. Taria came by to give him new, black robes and to let him know that Lothar would be meeting him just outside the palace gates. He felt confident as he dressed but now, as he walked out of the safety of the palace walls, he couldn't help but feel as if he stood out.

Lothar was waiting just where Taria said he would be, dressed in black attire of his own and looking rather breathtaking. Seeing him eased some of the nervousness that had seeped into Khadgar’s mind. He smiled, and though it was tinged with sadness it still made Khadgar’s heart flutter.

“Are you ready?” Lothar asked quietly.

“As I'll ever be.”

They walked down the streets of Stormwind in silence. The city was more beautiful than ever, glowing from the light of the thousands of candles that lines the streets. Flower petals were strewn about, giving the entire city a subtly beautiful smell. But the closer they got to the chapel, the more real everything began to feel. Khadgar was determined to control his emotions for once, to not let himself show the weakness and break down as he seemed to do so often. He was supposed to be the next Guardian; he needed to be strong, the people needed to see him as strong.

Cathedral Square was filled with people, all crowded outside the chapel. They parted for Lothar and Khadgar, many reaching out to touch their shoulders in a show of solidarity. They mourned their Guardian, but they understood that what they were feeling couldn’t begin to compare to the pain those who were close to him were feeling.

The inside of the chapel was just as beautiful, if not more. There were more candles, throwing a soft light across the room that bounced off the coloured stained glass and gave the grand room a beautiful glow. Taria and Llane stood at the front of the room, right next to the priest who would be heading the ceremony. In front of them was Medivh, laying on a table covered in plush white pillows and even more flowers. Khadgar felt Lothar tense next to him as his eyes landed on his old friend, but he barely faltered as he directed Khadgar to their spot next to the King and Queen with a gentle hand on his lower back.

When they reached the pair, Taria pulled him into another tight hug, much like the one he received when she brought his robes. “You worried us, Khadgar,” the King said quietly next to her. “But thank you for what you did.”

Khadgar just nodded, not trusting his voice. He wanted to slink back into the crowd, become invisible, but he was the Guardian now; he was expected to stand with the royals. He was expected to be someone for the public to look up to. The priest raised his hands, and the hum of idle chatter died almost instantly. He began the ceremony with a recap of Medivh’s life, and all that he'd accomplished.

Khadgar stared forward, focusing on his breathing and keeping himself calm. Lothar stepped closer, his hand finding its way to Khadgar’s. It was a surprise, but the rough warmth of Lothar’s palm did wonders to help keep him calm. He squeezed gently, letting his eyes drift to the commander’s face. He looked so sad, so emotionally broken. He seemed to be struggling to keep his composure just as much as Khadgar, and the he could only imagine how much worse it was for him.

The ceremony was beautiful. Medivh had accomplished so much in his life—he was loved greatly and widely as the Guardian and as a friend. Thankfully the priest didn't go into detail on his death. He said it was a great tragedy and that Lothar and Khadgar had done everything they could to save him, but were unable. Khadgar was glad he didn't mention anything about the demon, or the fact that Medivh had died at his hands. The people didn't need to have that image taint the pleasant view of their past Guardian, or their future one.

After the speech had finished, the King stepped forward to address his people. “It's with the heaviest of hearts that we have to say goodbye to Medivh today. He was a beloved friend to me and my family, and this sudden loss has definitely shaken us,” he turned briefly, looking back at Lothar and Khadgar. “Lothar and Khadgar fought hard to save Medivh, but the forces they were working against were too strong if it weren't for Lothar’s strength, and Khadgar’s quick thinking, they could've faced the same fate as our Guardian. We're glad to have them here today.

“We need to take inspiration from their strength and courage and use it to persevere. Medivh served for many years as an incredible force for us to rely on, and he would want us to keep living and enjoying the peace he fought to ensure for us. Today I ask that instead of mourning his death, we celebrate his life. And tomorrow, we approach the new day with our heads held high and positivity in our hearts, because it is up to us now to continue his legacy.”

The crowd all rose to their feet as the last words left the King’s lips, a quiet applause filling the chapel. Llane once again proved why he made such a great king; even in a time of such sadness he managed to lift the spirits of his people. Khadgar felt a tear roll down his cheek, unable to hold it back any longer. He tried to keep his head held high, tried to keep his composure, but it was all too much.

He ducked his head, trying desperately to hide his breakdown, when Lothar squeezed his hand, “It's okay to cry, Khadgar,” he said quietly. “It's not weakness, it's compassion. The people will not see it as a negative thing.”

He squeezed his hand again, and then let go. Khadgar looked up, watching as him and Llane moved up with two other soldiers Khadgar couldn't name to lift the wood Medivh was laying on. The lifted it onto their shoulders and began their journey to the graveyard. Taria took Lothar’s spot next to Khadgar, her hand replacing her brothers and giving him the strength to move forward; to follow the body of his mentor through the streets of Stormwind.

He could feel the eyes of the people on him as they walked. Khadgar knew that their gazes were empathetic or sad, not judgemental or suspicious, but he couldn't help but feel like he let them down. He couldn't save their beloved Guardian, yet he was supposed to take over that role. It felt like forever before they finally reached the graveyard. Khadgar watched alongside Taria as Medivh was slowly lowered into the ground.

The burial passed in a blur. Before Khadgar realized it, everyone was leaving and only him and Lothar were left standing in front of the fresh grave. “He's really gone,” Khadgar said quietly. “I… I'm sorry, Lothar.”

“Don't apologize, Khadgar. His death is not on your hands.”

“How am I supposed to fill the space he left behind?” He asked, a tremble in his voice giving away the fear and anxiety that had been growing since Llane asked him to be Guardian. “I studied under him for less than a year, there is so much I still don't know how to do. I can't… I can't save one person, how can I be of any help to Azeroth?”

Lothar grabbed his hand, squeezing it tightly. “You will make a great Guardian, just as Medivh did. You've got to remember that he had years to learn. He locked himself up in Karazhan and studied endlessly. But when he first got the job? He was no better than you, Khadgar.”

“I just don't want to let everyone down.”

“I know, but you won't. We believe in you, _I_ believe in you. You're capable of greatness, bookworm.”

Khadgar smiled, leaning his head against Lothar's shoulder. He expected to be shrugged off, but instead Lothar rested his head against Khadgar's. They stood like that for a while, and Khadgar felt surprisingly calm for the first time since Medivh's death. Lothar tended to do that, though. He made Khadgar feel like he could accomplish more than he ever dreamed of growing up. Most importantly, Lothar made him feel like he had a home.

“What do you say we go for a drink?”  Lothar asked. “I don't know about you, but I'm not quite ready to be alone yet.”

“I would like that.”

* * *

 

Lothar decided to head to a tavern in the Mage’s District. He wasn't terribly familiar with the area, but he knew that it tended to be emptier than the other districts, and he really didn't feel like dealing with people at the moment. _Except Khadgar_ , he thought, glancing behind him at the mage. He looked pretty shaken still—whether from his trip to Karazhan, or from the funeral, Lothar didn't know. His heart ached for Khadgar as much as it did for himself. He may not've spent as much time with Medivh, but he considered him a mentor. And Lothar could tell he felt responsible for the Guardian’s death; it was a look he was all too used to seeing in the mirror.

The tavern was empty, as expected. The barman seemed shocked to see patrons, but gladly led the pair to a table tucked away in the back. It provided a nice amount a privacy for the two regardless of the emptiness. Lothar ordered a pint for the both of them, and the barman hurried off to fetch their drinks. They sat in silence as they waited. Lothar's mind kept drifting back to the last time they were sat across from each other in a tavern. To what he said.

_Not with my heart_. It had been so… so pathetic. He had been drunk, and his heart longed for the mage, but he had been _hurt_. Khadgar had hurt him—Khadgar had _left him_. Then he'd come back, and everything Lothar felt for him came barreling back. And he just wants to be angry, as he should've been, but all he wanted to do was hold him. All he wanted to do was stop dancing around what was obviously between them.

When the barman finally returned with their drinks, both were left untouched. Lothar stared at his. A year ago, before he met Khadgar, he would've drowned himself in drink at the loss of a dear friend. But now… now he just didn't feel like he needed to. For once, he wanted to have a level head, to not blur the world around him.

“Are you alright?” Khadgar asked, finally breaking their silence.

“I think so,” Lothar admitted honestly.

Khadgar reached across the table, gently resting his hand over Lothar's for a moment—then all too soon he was pulling away. Lothar reached out quickly, grabbing Khadgar's hand and holding it tightly. He didn’t  look into the mage’s eyes, instead focusing his gaze on their joined hands. He began rubbing gentle circles into Khadgar’s palm, marvelling at how normal it felt. How _nice_ it felt.

“When you left I was angry,” he began, knowing it was about time to get everything out on the table. “I thought everything you said was true and it hurt. I thought we… I thought something was beginning between us, and then you left. You ran away. I know now that you were just doing what you thought was best, but it doesn't change the fact that you hurt me, Khadgar.

“When a guard told me you were back, I thought seeing you was going to bring that anger back,” Lothar looked up briefly, just long enough to see the regret on Khadgar's face, “but it didn't. When I saw you again after so long all I wanted to do was hold you. I wanted to be angry, but I wasn't. You were barely back, and already I was being pulled back to you. I thought I didn't want that, so I tried to keep you at a distance.

“When you appeared in my room this morning, barely conscious and injured, I realized how wrong I was. I realized that the thought of losing you was absolutely terrifying,” he took a deep breath. “Losing Medivh made me realize that those we love can be taken from us far too soon. Life is too short to avoid happiness… to avoid love when it's there. Khadgar, from the moment I found you, you mesmerized me. Even weak and voiceless, you captured my attention completely.

“When my wife died, I thought that was it for me,” Lothar said quietly, finally looking up to meet Khadgar’s eyes fully. “But then you came along, and I realized I might've been given another chance at that happiness. I don't want to lose it again.”

He waited for Khadgar to respond. To say something— _anything_ —but the mage just stared at him. Unease stared to rise in Lothar's gut. He started to wonder if maybe he'd read the situation completely wrong. Khadgar had spent most of his life free from affection, maybe he just didn't know what to do. Maybe Lothar was reading more into it than what was actually there. Embarrassed, he released Khadgar's hand and dropped his gaze. But before he could even begin to feel hurt, Khadgar was reaching for his hand again.

“I… I hated leaving you,” he said, voice trembling. “It destroyed me to have to say what I did, Lothar. For the first time in my life, I was feeling all these emotions, this… attraction that had never been there before. I didn't want to leave, but I had to. When I returned, I was so scared I had lost you, and then you said you didn't trust me… I'm so sorry.”

“It's in the past, Khadgar. You did what you had to do, I understand that now.”

“I would really love to have the chance to be with you, if you'd let me.”

Lothar smiled, “I would like that, yeah.”


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the wait on the chapter guys. Work has been tiring, to say the least. The season ends on the 5th of September, though, and I’ll have a about two weeks before school is back in so updates should come more regularly. Until then, it could be a bit until the next chapter, and I’m sorry for that. Thank you for sticking around and continuing to read, we’re reaching the home stretch here. <3

When Khadgar woke up the morning following the funeral, it took him a minute to process everything that happened the day prior. He honestly wasn't sure if his and Lothar’s conversation in the tavern was a dream. It felt real, but the idea was far too surreal for Khadgar to believe. He'd wanted for so long to fix things between them, and hoped so strongly for his feelings to be justified, returned. But for it to actually happen? He couldn't help but wonder if it was just his brain tricking him.

He dressed quickly, knowing he would be expected for breakfast soon. He could tell by how bright it was in his room that he had slept in, and the last thing he wanted to do was be late. Moments after he slipped on his boots, there was a knock on his door. Khadgar opened it, and his heart fluttered at the sight of Lothar.

“Good morning, bookworm,” the Commander said. He leaned forward and pressed a gentle kiss to Khadgar's cheek that pretty much made the mage's heart explode. He couldn't stop the massive smile that spread, and Lothar returned it gladly.

“Morning.”

“Ready to go?” Khadgar nodded, and began following Lothar down the twisting hallways of the castle. He could barely believe it had all actually happened, but was he ever glad it did. He couldn't stop smiling as they walked down the halls, even as they sat down to eat and everyone looked at him with questioning glances. Khadgar could care less what they were all thinking.

He glanced at Lothar as the food was served, and was happy to see the same, dumb smile on his face. Conversation during the meal was relatively lighthearted. Taria made pleasant small talk with the other nobles at the table, but every once and a while Khadgar would catch her staring out of the corner of her eye, a knowing smile dancing on her lips. He felt himself blush, but her gaze wasn't one filled with judgement or disapproval. She looked genuinely happy for him. For both of them.

When they were both finished eating, Lothar pulled him away with a mischievous smile. Khadgar let himself be dragged along, heart pounding in anticipation for whatever was to come. He was delighted, albeit confused, when they arrived in the library. He rose an eyebrow as Lothar continued pulling him through the shelves, deeper than Khadgar had ever really had the chance to explore.

At the very back of the large room, hidden behind thousands of books in stacks on the ground, was a staircase. Khadgar's heart jumped at the sight, and he couldn't help the breathless laugh that tumbled from his lips as they climbed upward. The room at the top was small, but far cozier than anything in the main level of the library. There was a large stain glass window almost completely covering the wall directly across from the stairs, and it filled the room with a dulled light.

On one side of the room there was a desk with lots of parchment and a candle that had almost been burned down completely. On the other side of the room were more piles of books and plush pillows strewn across the floor. Khadgar was speechless. Lothar wrapped his arms around Khadgar’s waist, his breath dancing on his neck as he spoke quietly. “Taria had this room renovated shortly after her and Llane married,” he explained. “She doesn't use it much anymore, but I thought you'd appreciate it.”

“It's breathtaking,” Khadgar gaped. “It's like we’re not even in the castle anymore, it's so private.”

Lothar's hands moved to his waist, spinning him so they were face to face. Khadgar could feel himself getting warm as he was pulled closer, _impossibly_ closer, until they were pressed together and their lips were mere inches apart. When Lothar spoke, he could almost feel the movement of his lips on his own. “I may have had some selfish reasons for bringing you up here.”

He didn't have the chance to ask, not that he'd had any question of Lothar's intentions. The kiss was almost painfully gentle, but completely perfect. Khadgar melted in the older man's arms, humming happily at the long awaited feeling of Lothar's lips against his own. It wasn't long before the innocent peck was deepened. Khadgar threw his arms around Lothar's neck, threading his fingers into his soft hair. Lothar's grip on his hips tightened as he deepened the kiss, his tongue dancing gently across Khadgar's bottom lip, asking permission that was eagerly granted.

When Lothar finally pulled away, they were both panting. He their foreheads together, a soft smile on his lips that Khadgar couldn't help but return. “You can't imagine how long I've wanted to do that.”

“On the contrary, the feeling has been pretty mutual.”

Lothar chuckled and ruffled his hair. “As much as I would love to stay and continue this, I have duties that I have been neglecting an awful lot as of late. Feel free to stay here and make yourself comfortable if you wish.”

“Come find me later?” Khadgar asked, pressing a shy kiss to Lothar's lips.

“Of course.”

* * *

 

Rumours spread incredibly quick within the castle’s network. Lothar knew this, and often used it to his advantage, both for work… And for family. The first time Callan had kissed a girl, he found out within the hour. It was incredible how quickly word spread. He really should've expected to be getting questioning glances; for people to be whispering when they thought he couldn't hear, but it had been quite a while since he'd been on the receiving end of the gossip. It was definitely weird.

“What are they saying?” He asked Callan once he'd safely reached the training grounds.

“Exactly what you'd expect them to be saying,” Callan said. “Everyone's betting on whether or not you are actually trying to court our resident mage or not.”

“Right.”

“Well?” Callan prompted.

“Well, what?”

“As your son, I really feel like I should know if something is going on between you guys.”

Lothar bit hit lip. He hadn't expected to have this conversation with Callan so soon. He wasn't even sure what _was_ between him and Khadgar yet, how was he supposed to articulate that to his son? “If there was,” he said slowly, “would that… would you be okay with that?”

“Of course. I just want you to be happy, dad. It's pretty clear to everyone that Khadgar makes you happy.”

“You're sure? It's not weird?”

“It's a little unexpected.” Callan shrugged, “But I'm glad you've found someone finally.”

“Me too, kid. Me, too.”

 He watched Callan walk away, a considerable weight lifted from his chest. He didn't know what he would've done if his son had disapproved—his feelings for Khadgar were strong, but Callan was still the most important person in his life. Lothar was glad he wouldn't have to choose.

The remainder of the morning went smoothly. Despite his recent absences, his soldiers addressed him with the same enthusiasm and respect that they always had. They all knew that Medivh had been a friend, and knew that he was grieving. For their compassion, Lothar went easier on them then he normally did.

After lunch, he decided to fill the remainder of training with sparring. He still feared that Medivh's possession was only the beginning of something far greater, and he wanted to know that they were able to handle themselves outside of routine practice. He needed to make sure they could judge the actions of their opponents and react accordingly. Much to his relief, he found almost all of them to be more than competent. Even those that fell behind the rest still managed to hold their own.

For the last hour, Lothar entered the ring himself. He opened it up to anyone, and as many opponents as they saw fit. He hoped the exercise would be a good demonstration of handling oneself against many opponents, but also knew it would help keep him on his toes. As Commander, he needed to remain in peak condition, mentally and physically.

For the most part, he managed to hold his own. Initially, only one or two more confident soldiers would approach, and Lothar would easily bring them down. But over time, the others learned that they had strength in numbers. Slowly, two became four, then seven. By the time he was fighting against ten, he found himself overrun.

Proud of what they'd accomplished, Lothar happily dismissed his troops ten minutes early. He was covered in sweat and dirt, but felt better than he had in a long while. At the end of the day, a good spar always did wonders to lift his mood. Especially when he knew the end of the day brought with it a certain mage Lothar suspected was still curled up in the library.

He all but sprinted to the baths, eager to clean up quickly so he could spend some time with Khadgar before it was time for dinner. He found the mage exactly where he'd left him, as expected. He couldn't help but smile as he returned to the cozy room to find Khadgar curled up on the pillows, surrounded by thick books. One particularly large one was resting on his lap, and Khadgar was studying it with an adorable intensity.

“Finding anything interesting?” Lothar asked. Khadgar jumped, the book in his lap tumbling to the floor as his head snapped up.

“You _have_ to stop doing that.” He stood, padding over in bare feet. Lothar smiled as Khadgar leaned up for a kiss, happily meeting him half way. “Seriously, I’m going to have to get you a bell or something, my heart can't take the scares.”

“I'll try to make my footsteps louder,” Lothar said. He cupped Khadgar's face gently between his hands, resting their foreheads together. He felt like he was being too forward, too clingy, but he just wanted to hold the mage. He'd waited so long to be able to, he didn't want to let go. Khadgar, for what it was worth, didn't seem to mind in the slightest. Rather, his hands came to rest over Lothar's as he smiled sweetly.

Lothar pressed one last kiss to his lips before leading him back over the the pillows. He fell heavily onto them, pulling Khadgar down with him. He ended up half in Lothar's lap, his legs a welcome weight over Lothar's own. Khadgar's hands found their way into his still damp hair as he wrapped his arms loosely around his waist.

“How was your day?” Khadgar asked quietly.

“Good. It felt nice to get back to training again. I've missed the simplicity of the repetition. Plus, it was nice to fight without my life being in actual danger for once.”

Khadgar smiled bitterly. “Sometimes I wish we would've met under different circumstances—that our lives were safe and secure, not constantly on the verge of danger.” The beginnings of an apology danced on Lothar's tongue, but Khadgar didn't give him the change to give the words life. “Then I think about all the good that we do; the people we save. Plus, think about how much more boring life would be without a little danger.”

Lothar smiled, but his heart wasn't in it. He pulled Khadgar closer, kissing him deeply so he wouldn't be able to see the uncertainty in his eyes. Truth be told, he kind of wished Khadgar would've lived a quiet and peaceful life, that his family wouldn't have… have given him away like he was some sort of dispensable resource they could use to gain honour. Everything he went through, the year of hell he'd experienced before Lothar found him, it could've all been avoided.

Before the thought could fester too much, a throat cleared from the stairwell. They jumped apart, and Lothar would've been on his feet if he didn't have a lap full of mage. He didn't know who expected to see, but it certainly wasn't Taria. Once again, he wondered how that woman always knew where to find people who didn't want to be found.

“Sorry to interrupt,” she said smugly, “but dinner is going to be served in five minutes.”

“Right.” Lothar coughed, “We’ll, uh. We'll be right behind you.”

As soon as she was out of sight, Khadgar started to laugh. Lothar stared at him like he was crazy, because he quite possibly was. Still, laughter from Khadgar was so rare, and so completely intoxicating, Lothar found himself laughing along within moments. “Well, I guess if she didn't know before, she does now.”

* * *

 

Khadgar didn't really have a plan after dinner. All he knew was that he wasn't ready to leave Lothar's company just yet. So despite the butterflies dancing in his stomach, Khadgar took hold of his hand and led him through the halls of the castle and to his room. Lothar hesitated at the door, but a gentle tug was reassurance enough for Khadgar to get him inside. Finally in private, knowing they wouldn't be interrupted, Lothar pulled him in for a more heated kiss. He was pushed back against his dresser, the wood digging into his backside as Lothar pressed against him. His hands found this way to Khadgar's waist before sliding down, over his ass, to grab his thighs and lift him onto the top of the dresser.

The position was far more comfortable, and Khadgar tugged greedily at Lothar's shirt. He let his hands slip underneath, exploring the bare skin. He could feel the distinct smoothness of scars littering Lothar's chest, and knew that one day he would love to spend an afternoon familiarizing himself with the story behind each and every one. Lothar pulled away long enough to lift Khadgar's tunic over his head before pulling off his own shirt. He paused, eyes trailing down to the mage's bare skin. Khadgar could feel himself blushing, suddenly feeling incredibly self-conscious.

Khadgar dropped his gaze to the floor in embarrassment. He wished he wasn't so pale. He wished he hadn't put on so much weight, suddenly worried about how Lothar was all muscles and he was all… pudge. Lothar lifted his chin gently, dipping his head so he could make eye contact with Khadgar. “What's going on in that beautiful mind of yours?” He asked sweetly.

“You're… breathtaking,” Khadgar breathed. “Next to you I'm…”

“Beautiful.” Lothar said firmly. “You're absolutely beautiful.”

“Don't be ridiculous.”

“Khadgar, I'm serious.” He pressed a kiss to his forehead, “I am completely taken by you.” A kiss to his cheek, “From the minute I saw you, I was taken by you.” A peck on the lips, “And now? Now that you're healthy again, that attraction has only intensified.” The brush of lips against his jaw, “I want to spend hours exploring every inch of you.” A kiss to his collarbone, “I never want you to feel like you're not attractive, because you are.” Finally, a gentle kiss to his shoulder. “You're absolutely stunning.”

Khadgar felt tears welling in his eyes, threatening to spill over and ruin everything. He'd never been treated with such care, such tenderness. Lothar pulled him close, arms wrapping tightly around him as tears fell onto his shoulder. The mood they had going, all desperation and arousal, was lost. Khadgar wanted to kick himself for being so stupid, but Lothar didn't seem to mind.

Part of Khadgar expected him to leave, but instead he found himself being gently led to the bed. Lothar held him close as they lay there, face to face. He waited patiently for Khadgar to calm down, waving off all apologies that he tried to give. Once the tears stopped, he pressed a soft kiss to his lips. The hand that wasn't under Khadgar's arm rubbed soothing circles in his back, and once again he found himself wondering how he managed to be so lucky as to have caught the attention of such a lovely man.

“Khadgar,” Lothar breathed, “can you tell me about what happened in the year before I found you?”

“What? Why?” He asked, panic rising at the thought of Lothar knowing all that had happened.

“In the time I've known you, you've only ever said bits and pieces. You always shy away from talking about it, and I know you probably think it's going to change how I feel about you, but it won't. I swear to you, it will not change anything.”

Khadgar knew getting the story off his chest and out in the open would probably be good for him, but the thought still terrified him. “How do you know? The things that happened… how do you know it won't change this?”

“Because nothing could change how I feel about you. I swear, Khadgar, what we have is not going to change.”

He believed Lothar, because he trusted him. Despite the growing dread in the back of his throat, he knew that he had to get everything out there. And Lothar was the only one he trusted enough to even consider telling. “I wish I could say that everything started off okay, but it didn't. From the minute I got here, until you found me, it was a series of bad things adding up to absolute hell. No matter where I went, or what I tried to do, I couldn't get a job. I had no money when I got here, and that meant I was out on the street my first night.

“I guess things weren't so bad at first. The nights were cold, and food wasn't necessarily easy to come by, but I went mostly unnoticed. It wasn't until I found myself in Old Town that I started getting company.” Khadgar shuddered at the memory. “At first, it was drunk men who needed to get some anger out; shove someone around a bit. It wasn't anything that I couldn't handle. But things got worse, gradually. And one night it changed, one of them decided to use me to relieve… other tensions. After that, it got harder. I started to lose who I was, started to lose my desire to keep going.

“Even now, I can vividly remember the feel of their greasy, rough hands on my skin and the overwhelming smell of booze on their breath. They took everything from me: my dignity, my self-worth… my purity.” He focused his eyes over Lothar's shoulder. He didn't want to see the disgust in his eyes. “I've been taken more times than I can begin to count, and it ruined me. I… I don't expect you to want to be with that.”

“Don't be ridiculous, Khadgar. Of course I still want to be with you.”

“I'm disgusting, broken. They ruined me.”

“No, they didn't. You're beautiful, and I am incredibly attracted to you. _They're_ the disgusting ones, not you.”

“I know.”

Lothar cupped his face gently, thumbs running soothing circles on his cheeks. “I swear to you, Khadgar, if I can find those bastards they’ll spend the rest of their days in a cell.”

“It's not worth it. It'd just be a waste of your time.”

“I can't just let them go free, not after what they did to you.”

“It's in the past,” Khadgar said. “I just want to put it all behind me, and you're helping me do that. I don't want to reopen those memories again.”

“But what if they do it to someone else?”

Khadgar shook his head, “They won't. Unless someone else decides to leave the Kirin Tor and come to Stormwind. The only reason they got away with it was because I couldn't cry for help.”

He felt Lothar tense. He kissed him gently, desperately hoping to pull his attention away from the negative. They were together, and Khadgar was happier than he had been in a long time. He wanted to focus on the positive, not dwell on the past. Lothar seemed to understand that, and he noticeably relaxed.

Before long, his hands were moving down; over Khadgar's shoulders, fingers dancing gently down his arms to land on his hips. He pulled him closer, closing the distance between them completely. Khadgar gasped at the touch, feeling Lothar's arousal against his own. They deepened the kiss, and everything had a new sense of desperation, of raw _need_. Lothar changed their position so Khadgar was on his back, arms pinned above his head as he panted up at the Commander.

Lothar moved down, his lips exploring Khadgar's chest. He couldn't stop the moan that escaped his lips—everything was so _new_ , so _different_. It felt so good, and he couldn't help but roll his hips up, desperately seeking relief from the tightness growing in his pants. He felt Lothar smile against his skin, even as he sucked marks into his chest. Lothar's free hand moved further down, dancing over his nipples and down his stomach, until finally— _finally—_ it reached his groin.

If he wasn't so far gone, so completely wrapped up in the burning heat Lothar's touch left on his skin, Khadgar might've been embarrassed by how aroused he was. His pants strained against the bulge, which only worsened with Lothar's touch. He strained against the hand holding his own above his head, moaning loudly. Lothar's touch got rougher, more urgent. He let go of Khadgar's hands so he could work on undoing his pants, pulling them off in one swift motion.

He tried not to feel self-conscious as he lay, completely exposed, in front of Lothar. But the older man didn't give him a chance to feel bad about how he looked. “Beautiful,” he whispered, and then his lips were back on Khadgar's.

In a surge of confidence that Khadgar was almost positive was fuelled mainly by arousal, his hands found their way to Lothar's pants. He tugged at the material, his brain too fogged to comprehend how the garnets worked. Thankfully, oh so thankfully, Lothar got the point. He managed to finish removing his own clothes without breaking the kiss, and within moments Khadgar felt Lothar's arousal against his own.

He reached a hand down, wrapping it tentatively around it. He'd never done this, not on another person. Foreplay had never really been a concern of the men from the ally, and it was just another thing that distanced what they did from what he and Lothar were doing now. Much to his pleasure, Lothar hummed happily against his lips at the touch. Feeling more confident, Khadgar's strokes became more sure. It wasn't long before Lothar had to pull away, panting against his lips.

“Khadgar if you keep going like that, this isn't going to last long,” he said, voice rough and deeper than usual. Khadgar slowed his movements, but didn't stop. He enjoyed the look on Lothar's face too much.

He hadn't noticed that Lothar's hands had moved until he felt them on his ass, spreading his cheeks apart. He gasped at the touch, a mix of shock and arousal. Lothar, however, obviously took it as something else. In the blink of an eye, he was off Khadgar and on the end of the bed. “What're you… What happened?” Khadgar asked, his brain still foggy.

“I don’t know if this was such a good idea.”

“What?”

Lothar looked away, but Khadgar could see him shutting down. “I just think it might be too soon.”

“Too soon?” Khadgar asked. “Lothar, we’ve been pining after one another for the better part of a year.”

The Commander said nothing, but something clicked in Khadgar's head as he watched him pull on his pants. It wasn't because their… Whatever this was was new. It had nothing to do with them, or their relationship. No, but it had _everything_ to do with Khadgar and his past. He sat up quickly, pulling his knees to his chest. He just wanted to disappear. He felt dirty, used. Unwanted.

“I should go,” Lothar said, already backing towards the door. “I'll come pick you up for breakfast tomorrow.”

“You promised,” Khadgar said quietly, and his hand froze on the handle. “You swore you wouldn't let my past change what we have.”

He saw Lothar's shoulders droop. His hand dropped from the door handle, and he very slowly made his way back to the bed, sitting gently next to Khadgar, who couldn't help but shy away. “It's not you, Khadgar. It's not because I'm not attracted to you—but that's part of the reason why I'm…” He sighed. “I don't know if I could stop myself if we started. I don't want to hurt you.”

“I'm not as fragile as you seem to think I am.”

“I know, I know. I just… I care too much about you to risk moving too fast and doing something we'd regret.”

Khadgar reached out, tentatively, and grabbed one of his hands. “You're not them. You're not going to hurt me; you're not going to _break_ me. Being with you is different, Lothar. You make me feel things I've _never_ felt before. I hated what they did, but tonight? You drive me crazy— _good_ crazy. I trust you, and I want to experience this with you.”

He could see the beginnings of a smile on Lothar's lips, so Khadgar leaned forward to press a gentle kiss to his lips. “I do think it is a little too soon, though. We only started this relationship yesterday, I want to take the time to enjoy it, cherish it. We don't need to rush things.”

Khadgar nodded slowly. “I can be okay with that.” Lothar started to leave, and without really thinking he reached out to stop him. “Could you… I would really like you to stay.”

“I would love to,” Lothar said, removing his boots again while Khadgar hastily pulled on his undergarments. They both got under the covers, Lothar pulling him close and pressing gentle kisses to the back of his neck. “Sleep well, love.”

Khadgar doubted he'd ever get a better night’s sleep.


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm not even going to try to apologize for the wait, because it's completely unforgivable. I know I promised to have this story done by now, but I ended up working in the two weeks before school started, and I started my sophomore year of college on the 18th. Hopefully y'all haven't given up on this story, though. There's one more chapter left. 
> 
> For those who have stuck around, I want to say thank you. This story has been such an incredible first step into the Warcraft fandom, and I look forward to writing more for it. You guys have made this such an incredible experience, though, so thank you. Your support has floored me.

Waking up next to Lothar quickly became one of Khadgar's favourite things. He'd been so nervous the first night, so worried that he wouldn't be able to sleep, or that he'd snore, or that he'd kick Lothar in the middle of the night. There had been so many things he felt self-conscious about, yet it had taken him mere minutes to doze off. The feel of Lothar's breath on the back of his neck, the heavy weight of his arm wrapped around Khadgar's stomach; it was unbelievably comforting. He slept easily through the night and woke the next morning feeling more well-rested than he had in a long while. Especially because he was woken with gentle kisses and soft words.

After that first night they always seemed to end up in one room or another, and Khadgar wasn't sure if he'd be able to sleep without the feel warmth of Lothar next to him. But now that they were sharing a bed, their relationship was the talk of Stormwind. No matter where he went, Khadgar heard whispers. Guards, maids, kitchen staff, hell even _nobles_ would start gossiping to each other every time he walked by or entered a room.

“What a _scandal,”_ one noble had said. “A measly runaway mage sleeping with the head of the King’s guard.”

“It's preposterous,” the other agreed. “Does he think he can slag his way out of the gutters?”

Though the gossip wasn't always so… upsetting, it was always there. People were always questioning his motives, or why Lothar would even be interested. And try as he may, Khadgar couldn't stop it from getting to him. He couldn't stop their words from getting under his skin and causing doubts. It only get worse when Lothar started saying that he wanted to go public with their relationship. All the doubts at the back of Khadgar's mind slammed forward, the idea alone filling him with panic and dread.

“I don’t know if it's the best idea,” Khadgar had said the first time he brought it up. “What if it's taken poorly? What if it turns the people against you?”

“I don't care about anyone else,” Lothar said. “We've fought too hard, been through too much, for me to care what they think. I'm tired of hiding how I feel about you.”

“But you're the Commander...”

“Yes, and you're the Guardian.”

“Precisely,” Khadgar said. “We're both very involved in the safety of the people, what if they disapprove of us? We can't afford to lose their trust, not now. Not with the Fel still a constant danger hiding in the shadows.”

No matter how hard he tried to argue, Lothar seemed set in his ways. Khadgar knew he would never just go and out them to the city without his permission, but their disagreement was making things awkward and stiff. He just wished Lothar would see it how he did. He wished Lothar would stop trying to argue his side every morning and night.

The more tense things got between them, the more watched he felt. Whether it was concerned glances at breakfast from Taria and Llane, or glares from the guards that Lothar had been pushing harder to get his frustrations out, everywhere he went he felt like he always had eyes on him. The one place he could escape to without fear of unwanted visitors was the alcove above the library, and he'd taken to spending almost all his time there.

It really was a beautiful space, and a very comfortable place to curl up and read. In the few weeks that he and Lothar had been at odds, he'd managed to learn so much.

 There were  drawings and notes strewn haphazardly on the desk and held on string by clothes pins.

 The more he studied, the more confident he felt. He still couldn't help but wonder if Llane was making the right choice appointing him guardian, but now he at least felt more confident in his skills.

Khadgar knew that he needed to practice. He was confident he knew the _theories_ behind the spells. He knew what he had to do, and say, to make them happen, but he didn't know if he possessed the strength necessary to make them work. So one morning, after a particularly heated argument with Lothar, Khadgar stormed straight up to the King and requested an audience.

“You're the Guardian, Khadgar. You needn't be so formal,” Llane said. A small smile danced on his lips, and Khadgar was relieved to see that the uncertainty that once lingered in his eyes whenever they were together was replaced by some sort of small fondness.

“I would like to request your approval for me to take my training to the next level,” Khadgar said, trying to sound as confident as possible. “I've been studying every book I could find, and while I know I have the concepts down I need to know that I'm strong enough to actually perform the spells.”

“So you're asking to practice what you've learned?”

Khadgar nodded, “I know magic is forbidden in Stormwind, but—”

“I give you permission,” Llane said, waving off Khadgar's arguments. “I'll get someone to set up some training dummies in the Mage District. They should be ready by early afternoon.”

“Thank you!” Khadgar said, already backing out of the room. Excitement pulsed through his veins, mixing with the quiet hum of the arcane. It was his turn to take out some frustrations.

* * *

 

When finally face to face with the training dummy, it looked rather… Lacklustre. It was quite small and made of mere wood. If Khadgar possessed even a quarter of the strength required to be a Guardian, one spell would utterly destroy the thing. He stared at Callan, who had volunteered to  accompany him to the Mage District, and raised an eyebrow. “Don't we have anything… stronger?” He asked.

Callan laughed. “Do you really think this is just a regular wooden training dummy?”

“Well it _looks_ like a regular wooden training dummy. Smaller than usual, if anything.”

“We're not stupid, Khadgar. We know the power that mages possess. This dummy was enchanted to be nearly indestructible.”

“Nearly?”

“Yes, _nearly_ ,” Callan rolled his eyes. “The amount of power required to destroy this thing is beyond the strength of a single mage.”

Khadgar raised an eyebrow. “That sounds like a challenge.”

“No,” Callan said, quickly shaking his head. “No, it was not a challenge, Khadgar. If you work yourself weak my dad will _kill_ me.”

“Yes, well, your father needs to learn that I am capable of taking care of myself now.” Khadgar said, throwing a spell at the dummy as he felt his anger beginning to stir. “He needs to learn that I can make my _own_ decisions about _my_ future—especially when it could effect how the people of Stormwind see me.”

“Khadgar…” Callan began, but it was far too late. Khadgar was far past holding back the anger, the _frustration_ that had been growing each time Lothar tried to pressure him into telling everyone everything. He threw spell after spell at the dummy, some old favorites, some new discoveries he'd been dying to try.

He just didn't understand why Lothar couldn't listen to _his_ side. Had he ever stopped to consider that maybe Khadgar wanted to keep their relationship to himself for the same reasons that made Lothar want to tell the world? Had he ever considered that maybe, _just maybe_ , he wanted to enjoy being in his first ever relationship without being in the public eye, especially with everything going on?

He could feel himself getting weaker as his anger and aggression towards the dummy grew, but it felt so _good_ to finally get his frustration out. Much to his pleasure, he managed to perform many of the spells he'd read about successfully, and the corner of the Mage District he was in was alight with the bright blue glow of magic. For the first time since Llane asked him to be the new Guardian, he felt like he could actually _do the job._

He was pushing himself, Khadgar _knew_ that. He could feel the energy being pulled from him with each incantation. But he was tired of people—of _Lothar_ seeing him as weak. He wanted to prove that he was a powerful mage deserving of the title of Guardian. If that meant sometimes he would have to push his limits, so be it. He _thought_ he would be able to tell when he was pushing it too far, when he had to stop and recover, but the spells he was trying were more advanced than anything he'd done in the past. They took more out of him than he was used to, and he didn't realize it until it was too late.

The last thing he remembered before he passed out was Callan shouting his name.

* * *

 

Lothar stared at Khadgar, unconscious on his bed. He really wasn't fond of how many times he found himself sitting in this same damn chair, waiting for the kid to wake up from one of his stupid and reckless moves. He wasn't sure how many more times his heart could take it. How many more times he could be approached by a guard or a healer, their eyes filled with pity as they explained that Khadgar had been hurt.

Sure, _this_ time he'd just exhausted himself. But what about next time? What if next time he's not just facing a training dummy? Lothar worried his bottom lip between his teeth, waiting for him to come to. _Willing_ him to come back.

He couldn't help but feel like it was his fault this time. If he wouldn't have pushed so much, put so much pressure on Khadgar to comply to his wishes. He knew that it was straining their relationship. He _knew_ that it was stressing Khadgar out just as much as he was stressing himself out. It was only a matter of time before something like this happened. And now, seeing Khadgar hurt and _knowing_ he was the cause… it wasn't worth it. Nothing was worth hurting Khadgar.

He grabbed the mage’s hand gently, pulling it to his lips. “I'm sorry, Khadgar,” he breathed against the skin. He was so caught up in his thoughts that he didn't hear Taria enter, and her hand landing on his shoulder made him jump.

“Sorry,” she said, “I didn't mean to frighten you.”

“No need to apologize, I wasn’t paying attention.”

“How is he?”

“Exhausted. He’s been out for nearly four hours now—the healers said that he could be like this for another three or four hours,” Lothar sighed, brushing the hair off Khadgar’s forehead tenderly. “There’s not much they can do to help. He pushed himself too far; all we can do is let him sleep it off.”

“He’ll be alright, Anduin,” Taria said.

“I know he will be, but I can’t stop myself from worrying.”

“It would be wrong if you could. You love him after all, do you not?”

“Yeah,” Lothar smiled, feeling his heart jump in his chest at the words. “Yeah, I really think I do.”

“Then why on earth have you been arguing with him over something so stupid?”

Lothar whipped around to stare at his sister, “What are you talking about?”

“Oh please, Anduin. Do you honestly think everyone in the castle couldn’t see you two were at odds? It doesn’t take a genius to figure out what’s going on.”

“I just don’t understand why he wants to keep everything so quiet. After everything we’ve been through—everything we’ve _lost_ —don’t you think we deserve this?”

“Of course you do.” Taria smiled sadly, “But you have to realize that it wasn’t long ago Khadgar was a beggar on the streets of our great city. Do you not hear the whispers, brother?”

Lothar felt his heart drop into his stomach, “What whispers?”

“They say he’s not worthy of you. They’re calling him a harlot; saying he’s trying to charm his way out of poverty.”

“That’s—what—why hasn’t he said anything?”

“He’s probably embarrassed,” Taria said. “But can you see why he’s not as thrilled as you are about the idea?”

“I… I didn’t know. I didn’t even think about it.”

“I know. You often let your emotions cloud your judgement, but now you need to be there for him. He’s going through a lot; he’ll need you now more than ever.”

Lothar nodded, “Thank you, Taria.”

“Anytime, little brother.”

* * *

 

When Khadgar finally woke up, Lothar felt as if a weight had been lifted from his chest. He pulled the mage into a tight hug. “Lothar?” Khadgar asked. His voice was rough from sleep and weaker than usual.

“What the hell did you think you were doing, spell-chucker?” Lothar boomed. He meant to be calm, collected, but damn if the kid didn’t drive him up the wall.

“I needed to practice. Book smarts can only get you so far, Lothar, and I am to be the Guardian.”

 “Yes, but to this extent?” Lothar barked. “To the point of exhaustion?”

“I’m fine, Lothar.”

“You’re not fine!” Lothar shouted, once again letting his anger get the better of him. He closed his eyes, taking a deep breath to calm himself before continuing. “You should’ve told me.”

“Told you what?”

“You should’ve told me about the whispers. About what people were saying.”

Khadgar went a deep shade of red and adverted his gaze, which only made Lothar’s heart ache more. He reached for Khadgar’s hands, pulling them to his lips. “I’m sorry,” he said. “Khadgar, if I would’ve known… I shouldn’t have pushed so much.”

“It’s not your fault. You didn’t know.”

“I should’ve known. Or I should’ve asked—I should’ve _noticed_. I wasn’t paying enough attention, and I’m sorry.”

“I want us to be happy,” Khadgar said quietly. “We deserve to be happy after everything that’s happened, but I just… the last thing I need right now is for the people to be against me. They’re already going to have to adapt to having a new Guardian, I don’t want this on them, too.”

Lothar nodded, “I understand now, and you’re right. We need to give them time to process everything. But Khadgar, you need to stop listening to the whispers and the rumors in the castle. They’re just jealous. Jealous and confused.”

“I know,” Khadgar said with a smile. Lothar was so relieved to see that smile again that he couldn’t help but kiss the mage.

“I missed you,” Khadgar said softly when Lothar pulled away, “I hate fighting with you.”

“I love you,” Lothar said suddenly.

“You—what?”

He smiled, cupping Khadgar’s face between his hands. “I love you. So much.”

“Lothar—”

“You don’t have to say it back,” he said quickly. “But I would like it if you called me Anduin.”

Khadgar smiled sweetly, pressing a soft kiss to his lips. “I love you too, Anduin.”

* * *

 

Khadgar would’ve been perfectly content to spend the rest of the evening in Lothar—Anduin’s arms. After the month they’d had, they could’ve done with some alone time. Naturally that just meant they wouldn’t get any. Just as they were getting comfortable, and things were getting warmer, the door to his room burst open. Callan stood, frozen and red as a tomato, in the doorway.

Lothar was off him almost before Khadgar had fully processed the situation. “Callan,” he coughed, rubbing the back of his neck. “What are you doing here?”

“The King wanted me to come find you. He wants to see Khadgar once he’s, um… decent.”

“We’ll be right down,” Lothar assured. “And Callan? Please knock in the future.”

“The doors have locks, dad. Please use them.”

Khadgar snickered at the comment, which earned him a glare that quickly led to a kiss. He forced himself to push Lothar back as things got more heated. “We have to go see the King.”

“The King can wait,” Lothar groaned.

“He really can’t. It comes with the title.”

Lothar sighed, but didn’t argue any further. Instead, he gently brushed Khadgar’s hair into something that didn’t show what they’d just been doing. Though he was pretty sure his swollen lips would give them away.

The walked down the halls of the castle side by side, closer than was maybe considered “normal” or “acceptable,” but not actually touching. Even if Khadgar wanted nothing more than to have the warmth of Lothar’s hand in his own. Llane was waiting for them in the throne room with a knowing smile that made Khadgar blush. He was still uncertain around Llane, _especially_ when it came to matters featuring him and Lothar.

“Khadgar,” Llane said as the doors closed behind him. There was no one else in the room; not even a guard. “I’m glad to see you’re alright.”

“I’m fine, just underestimated the power of the spells I was trying out.”

“So I take it the training is going alright?”

Khadgar nodded, “I’m learning faster than I thought. I’ll likely have to return to Karazhan to get some more books in the future, but for now I’m more than happy with what I have.”

“Good, I’m glad.”

“So, um,” Khadgar shifted his weight from one foot to the other, still feeling antsy under the King’s gaze. “You wanted to see me?”

“Yes! I wanted to run something by you.”

“Oh?”

“I would like to hold a ceremony to announce you as the new Guardian.”

Khadgar’s heart stopped, and he took a stuttering step backwards. He felt the room begin to spin at the thought of the thing. Thankfully Lothar’s hand landed on his lower back, steadying him. Grounding him. When he spoke, his voice was at least two octaves higher than usual, “You do?”

“I think it’s be good for the people to know they have someone to rely on. Medivh’s death really shook the Kingdom. Now, more than ever, they need to see us as a united front. They need to know that we can keep them safe, no matter what.”

“Isn’t it a little soon?” Khadgar stuttered. “I mean; it’s just shy of a month since Medivh’s funeral.”

“They need to know they have someone to rely on, Khadgar. They need to see that the Guardian hasn’t died, just passed hands.”

Khadgar nodded slowly, a sickening feeling in his gut. He was so thankful for Lothar’s touch. The gentle circles he was rubbing on his back were soothing, and they were possibly the only thing keeping him from falling over. The mere thought of standing in front of all of Stormwind was enough to make him sick, but for the event to be centered around his new role? Khadgar would rather die.

“We’re hoping to hold the ceremony in Cathedral Square three days from now.”

“Okay,” Khadgar said, barely managing to force the word past his lips.

“Don’t worry, Khadgar. Everything will turn out just fine. The people will love you.”

He wanted to believe Llane, but everything in him screamed to run. To get as far away as possible and never look back.

* * *

 

Lothar knew Khadgar wasn’t okay. He could feel the unease rolling off him, could see how tense the mage had been since Llane’s announcement. He had all but pulled Khadgar from the room, leading him back to the nook above the library with a steady arm over his shoulders. When the got there, Khadgar fell heavily onto the couch. He didn’t say anything, just stared straight ahead.

Lothar sat next to him, pulling him against his chest. Khadgar relaxed into his touch, but Lothar could almost feel the fear. “It’ll be okay, Khadgar. You know that, right?”

“I just…” He took a deep breath,” I’m a street rat, Lothar. I was nothing more than a beggar until you found me—how are they going to see me as anything but that weak, pathetic man?”

“You were never nothing more than a beggar. You’ve always been incredibly special; incredibly _important_ ,” Lothar said strictly. “You are stronger than anyone I know. With all you’ve been through… Khadgar, so many would have just given up. Or, even if they would’ve managed to persevere, few would’ve been able to continue to live the way you do. You live so selflessly, my love. The people will know that, and they will love you as I do.”

“And if they don’t?”

“If they don’t, I will be by your side. As will Llane, and Taria, and Callan. There are so many people who will stand with you no matter what.”

“I don’t understand what I did to deserve this—to deserve you all,” Khadgar breathed. “But I’m scared, Anduin.”

“I know.”

Lothar pulled him closer, pressing a kiss to his hair. He hated seeing Khadgar like this. He hated knowing that the mage didn’t see himself how Lothar did; that he couldn’t see the beauty and strength Lothar did. He was so scared the people wouldn’t like him, but that was exactly why they would. Khadgar was a good man, but more than that he would do anything to protect those he cared about.

Khadgar didn’t know what he did to deserve them, but really they didn’t deserve him. Lothar just hoped everyone would be able to see that. There was a nervousness in the pit of his stomach. He couldn’t help but worry that the men from Khadgar’s past would come back, that they’d be there.

He couldn’t shed the feeling of dread that they would find a way to intervene.


	12. The End, for Now.

Lothar could practically _feel_ the tension and nervousness rolling off Khadgar as they lay together the night before Llane’s ceremony was due to take place. He’d been a mess since Llane had brought it up. He’d barely slept, and he’d been so distracted that Lothar had witnessed him walk into walls, only to apologize and keep walking. He knew he was pretending to sleep now, too. Didn’t want to worry Lothar, but Khadgar had never been very good at hiding things from him.

Lothar reached an arm around the mage, pulling him close and pressing a kiss to the top of his head. “Why are you nervous, love? The people adore you.”

“They tolerate me,” Khadgar argued. “And what if they don’t think I can live up to—to what Medivh was? What if I let them down?”

“You won’t,” Lothar said seriously, arching his neck so he could look Khadgar in the eye. “Even Medivh was impressed with the power you possess, Khadgar.”

“Don’t be ridiculous,” he scoffed. “Next to him, I’m nothing. The magic I can do is nothing but child’s play.”

Lothar sat up, pulling the mage with him. He made sure he had his full attention, their eyes locked together as Lothar rubbed gentle circles on his palms. “Power doesn’t refer solely to the spells you can perform; to your connection to the arcane. You have a willpower, a _strength_ , that is stronger than anyone I know.”

Khadgar sighed deeply, shoulders relaxing for the first time in nearly three days. “I just don’t want to let them down.”

“You won’t,” Lothar said firmly. “And you won’t have to do this alone, either. We’ll all be right behind you, every step of the way.”

“I know, and I’m incredibly grateful. I don’t know that I could do this without you, Anduin.”

Lothar leaned forward, his hands finding their way into Khadgar’s soft hair. He pulled him close enough that their breath melted together, and held him there. He studied him; his eyes, which were filled with so much hope, and wonder that they took his breath away constantly; his gentle lips, with so many amazing things to say that Lothar could’ve wept for the years of silence. He could see Khadgar squirm slightly under his gaze, but it didn’t falter. He wanted to memorize every detail.

Finally, slowly, Lothar brought their lips together. The kiss wasn’t rough, or desperate. It was soft, and lazy. They had the rest of their lives together, Lothar knew. He couldn’t imagine spending a day without the other man; he couldn’t even imagine his life without him. He’d almost lost Khadgar once before, and he was never letting him go again.

“I have an idea,” Lothar breathed against his lips. “Something that might help calm your nerves.”

“Oh?” Khadgar asked, flushing a beautiful pink that brought attention to exactly what those words _could_ imply. As tempting as that option was, especially with the look Khadgar was giving him, Lothar knew it wouldn’t help him the next morning.

“Why don’t we go see what they’ve prepared for tomorrow? I know the grandeur of a ceremony like this can be intimidating if you don’t know what to expect.”

“Is that allowed?”

Lothar smiled, “Probably not. It’ll be our secret.”

* * *

Khadgar wasn’t so sure if it was a good idea for the new Guardian and the King’s right hand man to be sneaking into the Cathedral. Frankly, he was shocked it wasn’t more well-guarded with the secrecy the King was maintaining about what the announcement was actually about. The last thing he expected was for them to be able to walk straight in, Lothar pulling him along with a childish excitement flaring in his eyes.

The Cathedral was lit on the inside, as always, with hundreds of candles enchanted to never stop burning. The flames cast a dull light across the grand room, which was even more breathtaking than usual. The pews had been lined with beautiful gold and blue silk, and they stood at the foot of a long blue and gold carpet leading to the large elevated platform at the head of the Cathedral. It had even _more_ candles than usual, and marvellous gold lion statues.

Blue and gold was everywhere. The colours of Stormwind. The colours of the _Alliance_. It felt so welcoming, like he was finally being given a place to call home. And he was growing rather fond of blue—it was much more comforting than the deep purples of the Kirin Tor.

“I can’t believe this is all for me,” Khadgar whispered into the darkened room. “It’s… so beautiful.”

“That’s Llane for you; he always did like putting on a show. You should’ve seen his wedding.”

Khadgar giggled, “I remember hearing about it. Some of the superiors said it was ‘useless splendour.’”

“They were just jealous they weren’t invited,” Lothar teased. “Why don’t you go stand on stage, prepare yourself for what you’ll be facing tomorrow.”

Khadgar did as he was told, climbing the stairs to the stage. Each step felt heavy, and his heart pounded in his chest even now, with Lothar his lone audience member. He just couldn’t shake the nervousness sitting heavy in his throat. Still, he walked to center stage and looked out, imaging the crowd of people who would stare back at him tomorrow.

“I don’t know if I can do this,” he said miserably, shoulders drooping in defeat.

“I’ll be right there next to you,” Lothar promised. “You won’t be alone.”

Khadgar wished it made him feel better, and he guessed it did on a deeper level. It didn’t, however, help the queasiness in his stomach. “Can we go home?” He asked, his voice small and weak.

In a moment, Lothar was at his side, an arm around his waist, leading him off the stage and far away from the Cathedral. It wasn’t until they were safely back in Lothar’s room that he finally felt like his heart was no longer in his throat and his stomach on the floor.

“I’m going to panic and screw it all up.”

“You won’t,” Lothar said, and he sounded so sure Khadgar could almost believe him. Almost.

“I just… I can’t do it, Anduin. I can’t face all those people knowing I killed Medivh,” he said, his breath coming in short puffs. He could feel his chest tightening in fear—a feeling he hadn’t experienced in a long while.

“You didn’t kill Medivh. You killed a demon that stole the body of Azeroth’s Guardian,” he grabbed Khadgar’s face between his hands, slightly rougher than usual. “You. _Did not._ Kill. Medivh.”

“Then why can’t I stop dreaming about it? Why can’t I stop feeling so guilty all the time?” Khadgar shouted, letting his anger and frustration explode on Lothar. He regretted it already, but didn’t stop. “I can’t be the Guardian, I’m barely able to keep myself safe. Until you came along, I _wasn’t_ able to keep myself safe!”

“Khadgar,” Lothar said quietly, no anger or hurt in his voice. Just sadness. “You are going to make a great Guardian, one Medivh would be proud of. I know it’s hard to displace him from the creature we fought, but with time… with time you’ll be able to make that distinction. Until then, I’ll be here to hold you when you wake up from those dreams in the middle of the night. We’ll get through this—together.”

He lifted Khadgar’s hands to his lips, brushing a kiss to his knuckles. Even the small gesture helped him relax. Made it easier to breathe. Slowly, so _agonizingly_ slowly, Lothar’s lips travelled up his arm, over his shoulder, up his neck. Finally, along his jaw until their lips met and Khadgar felt his worries fade away.

Lothar’s lips were rough, but soft at the same time. Just as much of a contradiction as the rest of him. Khadgar could feel the hesitance in his kiss, still. He could feel the doubt; feel the worry. Lothar didn’t want to hurt him, but Khadgar was getting damn tired of everyone walking on eggshells around him. He wasn’t about to let his past get in the way of what he wanted.

And right now, he wanted Lothar.

So, in a spur of confidence he really wasn’t used to, Khadgar deepened their kiss. His hands moved into Lothar’s hair, and he pulled him closer while adjusting their position just enough that he could climb into Lothar’s lap. He felt the surprise at the act come through in the kiss. Again, Lothar hesitated. Again, Lothar tried to draw back. This time, Khadgar wasn’t going to let him.

He rocked his hips, pressing down into Lothar. Uncertainty and nervousness curled in his stomach—the fear of rejection back despite his better judgement. But Khadgar barely had time to panic as his movement pulled a deep moan from Lothar. He felt more than heard it, Lothar’s chest vibrating with the sound. Khadgar did it again, just to see what happened. Again, Lothar moaned. But this time, his hands moved down and away from their ‘safe’ place on his hips to cup his ass—it was much better. He was definitely pleased with the results.

He pulled away from the kiss, panting and in desperate need for air, but he didn’t pull away from Lothar. He kept their faces close enough that their lips still brushed when they breathed. Once again, he rocked his hips downward.

The look in Lothar’s eyes, accompanied by the guttural moan, was something Khadgar _really_ wanted to get used to. He couldn’t help but smirk at how easily he was able to turn Lothar on. His smug look only made Lothar’s eyes darken more, and his hands moved back up to Khadgar’s hips. He gripped tightly, and smiled mischievously before pulling Khadgar down, pressing his own hips up at the same time.

He wasn’t expecting it, and _fuck_ if Lothar didn’t know what he was doing. Khadgar couldn’t stop the high whine that escaped his lips. “Lothar,” he gasped, hands tightening into fists in the older man’s hair. The sound seemed to snap Lothar out of his lust, and concern crossed his gaze.

“Khadgar,” he panted, “we should… I don’t think this is wise.”

“I want you,” Khadgar moaned. “I’m not broken, Anduin. I trust you, and I want you.”

“It’s a big day tomorrow.”

“Yes, so _please_. Take my mind off it.”

“Khadgar…” Lothar sighed.

“Anduin, I’m serious. We didn’t want to rush into this, so we didn’t. But I’m ready now, and I want you. I want to _feel_ you.”

“ _Fuck_ ,” Lothar hissed, and his grip on Khadgar’s waist tightened. “You’ll tell me if you need me to stop, or if I do anything wrong?”

Khadgar smiled sweetly, hand moving down from his hair to gently cup his cheek. He pressed a soft kiss to Lothar’s lips. “Of course.”

Lothar nodded, and leaned in to reconnect their lips. It wasn’t as desperate now, but it was deeper, lazier. They had time, and neither of them wanted to rush this. They’d waited too long to rush it.

 As they kissed, Lothar’s hands danced along the hem of his shirt. Slowly, his fingertips slipped underneath, and he gently eased the material up until it was bunched under his arms. Khadgar pulled away from the man long enough to pull the shirt fully off, and Lothar smartly removed his own at the same time.

Khadgar studied his bare chests, the scares that littered the surface. He let his hands roam the warm skin, bending down to press gentle kisses to Lothar’s shoulders and neck. In a fluid motion, Lothar flipped them around, pinning Khadgar to the bed and already beginning to explore his pale skin.

Khadgar tried not to think about the scars that littered his own skin. His weren’t battle wounds. His weren’t scars to be proud of, but ashamed of. His scars showed how weak and defenseless he once was. He squirmed under Lothar.

“You’re beautiful,” he breathed against Khadgar’s skin. “Absolutely beautiful.”

He didn’t say anything, because he didn’t know what to say. Instead, he let himself get lost in the feel of Lothar’s hands roaming his skin, moving slowly farther down and towards the growing hardness in Khadgar’s pants.

When his hands finally, _finally_ , reached the waistband of his pants, Khadgar’s breath hitched and his hips buckled upwards. “Anduin,” he breathed, “Anduin, _please_.”

He felt Lothar smile against his skin, fingers dipping under the fabric for a fleeting moment before roaming back up his chest. Khadgar groaned, and pushed his hips up, basically _begging_ to be touched.

His desperation just made Lothar smile bigger. He used the hand that wasn’t teasing gently over Khadgar’s nipple to hold his hips down, and Khadgar practically growled in frustration.

“Please,” he moaned.

This time, when Lothar’s hand dipped into his pants it didn’t pull away. This time, it moved farther down, tracing along his hipbones and towards his rapidly growing erection. When Lothar finally wrapped his fingers around him, all the breath left Khadgar’s lungs. His eyes squeezed shut, and his fingers tightened in Lothar’s hair.

“Good?” Lothar whispered against his neck as he began pumping.

Khadgar couldn’t think clearly enough to form words, so he just nodded. Seemingly satisfied with that answer, Lothar continued his stroking, his lips dancing across Khadgar’s chest. With each kiss, each movement of his fist, Khadgar could feel his vision blurring, and his orgasm getting closer.

“Stop,” he gasped. Instantly, Lothar’s hand was out of his pants and he was on the other side of the bed, leaving Khadgar cold and confused. “Anduin?”

“I’m sorry, did I hurt you?” He asked nervously.

“What? No,” Khadgar flushed deeply, “I just… I didn’t want it to end yet. I want…”

Lothar raised an eyebrow, moving back up the bed until they were almost touching, he reached out, hand still slightly hesitant, and stroked Khadgar’s cheek. “What? What do you want, love?”

“You,” Khadgar spit out. “I want to feel you.”

“Are you sure?”

Khadgar nodded quickly, “I trust you. I’m ready.”

“Tell me if it’s too much. I don’t want to hurt you.”

“You won’t.”

Lothar smiled, and kissed him gently. “I love you.”

“I love you too.”

When Lothar’s hands found their way to his waistband this time, they didn’t sneak underneath. This time, they tugged the cloth downward, over Khadgar’s erection, until Lothar was able to pull them off and chuck them across the room. Khadgar suddenly felt very naked, and self conscious. He squirmed under Lothar’s gaze, feeling himself flush. But Lothar wasn’t looking at him with disgust. Rather, his eyes were dark with a lust Khadgar hadn’t seen in a long time. But the look in Lothar’s eyes wasn’t like the ones he was used to seeing on the men that used him, because lingering under that lust was love.

Lothar loved him. He was safe. He was _happy_.

Khadgar reached out for him, grasping at the air until Lothar got the hint and sunk back into his grip. Khadgar pulled his head down quickly, kissing him with a greedy need that he didn’t know he had. His hands moved away from Lothar’s hair, and towards his pants. Khadgar fumbled with the button, determined not to break the kiss. After only a bit of a struggle, he succeeded.

His stomach fluttered as his hand slipped under the material. This was new territory for him, but Khadgar supposed it couldn’t be too different than doing it to himself. His hand moved with more confidence than he felt, not surprised to find Lothar already hard and leaking precum. As soon as Khadgar’s hand wrapped around his erection, Lothar pulled away from the kiss to let out a long moan.

The sounds he made only helped Khadgar’s confidence, and he started to twist his wrist and vary the speed of his strokes. It was what he liked, so he could only hope it was good. Judging by the look on Lothar’s face, it really was.

It wasn’t long before Lothar’s gripped his wrist tightly, stopping his hand. Khadgar looked up, worried he’d done something wrong, but saw only hunger in his eyes. “If you keep that up, this will be over very soon.”

Khadgar nodded in understanding, and removed his hand from Lothar’s pants, albeit a little reluctantly. He pushed at the material, and Lothar got the hint to take them off. In seconds, they joined the rest of their clothes in a heap on the floor. Lothar’s hands moved gently down to Khadgar’s thighs. Lothar tenderly pushed his legs apart, one hand moving down, past his balls, to ghost over his hole.

Khadgar gasped, a mix of pleasure and surprise. He felt Lothar’s hand freeze, so he grabbed his bicep and squeezed, encouraging him to continue. There was another beat of hesitation, and then Lothar was reaching into his bedside drawer for something. His hand returned with a small bottle that Khadgar assumed contained some sort of essential oil.

Lothar covered his fingers quickly before resuming his position. He glanced up, asking for permission, and Khadgar nodded. Slowly, Lothar pushed a finger in. He gasped at the stretch, but it wasn’t a bad feeling. Especially with how gentle Lothar was being—no one had ever been this gentle with him.

Lothar waited an almost uncomfortable amount of time before he started to move, gentle pumping his finger, curling it and looking for the spot that would make Khadgar scream.

He found it surprisingly quickly.

Khadgar’s eyes shot open at the feeling, a loud moan tumbling from his lips at the pleasure. Then, for god knows what reason, Lothar stopped and clamped a hand over his mouth. Khadgar stared up at him with confusion, and concern. What had he done wrong?

“Your eyes,” Lothar said, a tone of amusement in his voice. “They started glowing blue, I was a little worried you were going to blow something up.”

“That’s—that’s never happened before,” Khadgar panted. “I’ve never felt like that before.”

Lothar’s eyes filled with sadness, but he didn’t bring up Khadgar’s past. Instead he asked, “Think you can control it?”

“Yeah,” Khadgar nodded. “You just surprised me, is all.”

“I’ve been told I’m good with my hands,” Lothar smirked, and Khadgar smacked him in the arm. In retaliation, Lothar massaged the spot again. More moans tumbled involuntarily from Khadgar’s lips, but this time there was no blue.

“Lothar,” he moaned after a while. “Anduin, _more_. I need more.”

Lothar smirked, and removed his finger, only to replace it almost immediately with two more. Khadgar gasped, hands clutching desperately at the sheets beneath him. In minutes, he was a mess, his eyes glazed over with pleasure. His fingers tugged at Lothar’s hair, and he was almost certain his moans would be heard down the hall.

“Anduin, stop,” he puffed. “I’m close, I can’t—I want you. I want you _now_.”

Lothar’s eyes darkened, and he pulled his fingers from Khadgar. He felt empty, and whined at the sensation. Lothar pressed gentle kisses to his cheeks and eyelids, “Shh, it’s okay. Patience, love.”

Khadgar was mildly aware of Lothar reaching down to cover himself with the oil, and then the head of his dick was pressing against Khadgar’s entrance. He hissed in a breath, urging himself to relax. “Go slow,” he whispered. Lothar nodded in understanding.

It was too much at first, and Khadgar squeezed his eyes shut at the pain—at the _fullness_. It’d been a long time since he’d been this full. But Lothar, true to his word, pushed in slowly. Almost agonizingly slowly. Once he was fully inside, he stopped. He rubbed gentle circles on Khadgar’s abdomen, and pressed kisses to his shoulders. Letting him adjust; letting him push away the old memories.

Lothar was far more gentle than any of the disgusting pigs from the ally had ever been, but the feeling of fullness, of having someone inside him, was enough to bring back memories that he desperately wished he didn’t have. He didn’t want to ruin this moment, he wanted to be with Lothar. He wanted _this._

Khadgar forced himself to breathe. To open his eyes and look at Lothar, who was staring at him with such love and concern it almost hurt. He pushed the old memories away, telling his body to associate this feeling with Lothar. With _love_.

It wasn’t long before he finally felt like he was ready to continue. He nodded at Lothar to continue, and he did. It was slow, and gentle, and so _different_ that it wasn’t hard to see this as a new experience. To let himself feel pleasure without guilt.

When Lothar found that spot inside him again, Khadgar’s vision exploded into stars. He dug his nails into Lothar’s back, almost screaming with pleasure. “Yes,” he moaned. “Yes, Anduin. _More_. _Faster_.”

Lothar looked concerned for a second, but the look passed pretty quickly. He started moving faster, his thrusts harder and more desperate. Khadgar’s moans got louder, and his grip tighter. He repeated Lothar’s name like a mantra as he felt his orgasm pooling in the back of his stomach.

“I’m close,” he breathed.

“Me too.”

 It took two more thrusts before Khadgar was falling over the edge, shouting Lothar’s name as he came, the sticky warm liquid covering his stomach. He felt himself clench and contract against Lothar, and it didn’t take long for him to follow suit. The feeling of warmth filling him was familiar, but so different. He didn’t feel disgusting. He felt satisfied.

Lothar pulled out of him and got up, but before Khadgar could complain he was returning with a warm cloth to clean them up. As soon as he was satisfied they wouldn’t wake up sticky and uncomfortable, he climbed into bed naked and pulled Khadgar against his chest.

“I love you,” Lothar said, pressing a gentle kiss to the top of his head.

“I love you, too.”

* * *

When Khadgar woke up the next morning, he felt sore, but surprisingly happy. There was a heavy arm across his stomach, and Lothar was snoring softly next to him as the sun shone through the window they had forgotten to close. If Khadgar had to guess, it was likely before 6. Part of him wanted to go back to sleep, but a larger part wanted to just lay there and study Lothar.

Neither got to happen, however, as a tentative knock came. “Come in,” Khadgar called, without really thinking. He immediately regretted the words when Callan walked in.

The poor kid looked at Khadgar, then at Lothar, and very slowly realization crossed his face. He blushed a bright red, clearing his throat and turning around to stare adamantly at the stone wall. “Lady Taria wanted me to come wake you. She says you need to come have breakfast before the ceremony.”

Callan was out the door before Khadgar could respond, not that he would’ve. The ceremony. His stomach suddenly felt heavy. He took a deep breath, and leaned over to press kisses onto Lothar’s cheek until he woke up.

“Morning,” he said groggily, smiling up at Khadgar. “Did you sleep well?”

“Um, Callan may have… he may have seen some things he likely didn’t want to.”

The sleepiness was knocked out of Lothar with that statement, and he sat up to stare at Khadgar, waiting for an explanation. “He knocked. I wasn’t thinking, I just said to come in…”

“Oh, that poor kid,” Lothar chuckled. “I’m sure I’ll hear about that tomorrow.”

“Lady Taria wants us to come for breakfast. Before the ceremony.”

Lothar must’ve heard the nerves in his voice, because he pulled Khadgar gently into his arms. “Don’t be nervous, love.”

“Easier said than done.”

“I’ll be right there next to you.”

Khadgar nodded against his chest, “I know.”

They got up slowly, sharing lazy kisses as they dressed in the previous day’s clothes. They ended up arriving only a little late for breakfast. Callan took one look at them, flushed a bright red, and immediately excused himself. Lothar chuckled, despite himself.

“Are you excited for this afternoon?” Llane asked. “The people are all humming with excitement. Everyone’s excited to find out what the announcement is.”

“It’ll be nice to assure them they have a Guardian again,” Khadgar agreed, forcing a smile mostly out of curtesy for the King.

After they had finished eating, Lothar and Khadgar excused themselves and set off getting ready. Most of the process involved Lothar attempting to calm Khadgar’s nerves. While they bathed, Taria had dropped off a new set of robes for Khadgar. They were beautiful, but simple. A mix of blues, whites, and tans. The getup was a little more complex than he was used to, and Lothar had to help him figure out the proper order to put it on, but he found it incredibly comfortable. Cozy, even.

“Beautiful,” Lothar said simply, brushing Khadgar’s hair off his forehead, and pressing a gentle kiss to his lips. “Ready to go, love?”

Khadgar took a deep breath and nodded slowly. “As I’ll ever be.”

* * *

Khadgar could hear the excited hum on the crowd packed into the Cathedral. He was standing with Lothar, Llane, and Taria in one of the rooms that branched off the large space, and his heart was about ready to pound out of his chest. Lothar, sensing his nervousness, had begun rubbing soothing circles on his back.

“We’re about to begin,” Llane said suddenly from behind them, making Khadgar jump. “Are you ready?”

He nodded slowly, and swallowed around the lump in his throat. Llane smiled, and clapped him on the shoulder before walking out onto the stage. The crowd erupted into cheers. Taria stepped up next, pulling him into a tight hug and whispering encouragements into his ear before joining her husband on stage. Thankfully, Lothar was to walk out with him. Khadgar didn’t know if he would’ve been able to do it alone.

“Welcome, everyone,” Llane said, his voice booming and echoing off the stone walls. “Thank you all for coming to this important event. As you all are aware, we recently had to say our goodbyes to our last Guardian, Medivh.”

The crowd hummed in a unified sorrow. Llane gave them a moment before continuing. “Today, I would like to present to you the young man who will be taking over that role. Since coming to Stormwind, he has shown incredible bravery and strength. I have no doubts that he will be a great protector for Azeroth.”

Lothar’s hand found its way to Khadgar’s lower back, nudging him forward. Which was probably a good thing, because he felt frozen with fear and nervousness. He watched for Llane’s queue to step on stage and, with one last breath, made his way into the eye of the public for the first time as the new Guardian. He focused on the sound of Lothar’s steps behind him, taking comfort in his closeness.

“Everyone, I present you the new Guardian; Khadgar!” The room was silent for a moment, and in a panic Khadgar reached for Lothar’s hand. He could care less what kind of impression it gave, he needed to ground himself. He needed Lothar to keep him from panicking. Thankfully, Lothar didn’t pull away. Instead, he squeezed Khadgar’s hand.

Just when he was about to worry, the room erupted into cheers. People stood from their seats, clapping and chanting his name. Lothar leaned in close, lips brushing Khadgar’s ear as he whispered, “I told you; you’re exactly what Stormwind needs. You’re exactly what _I_ need.”

Khadgar smiled, feeling a tear run down his cheek. For the first time, he felt like he was home.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> That's the end, folks. I just want to take a moment to say thank you to each and every person who took the time to read this story, especially those of you who have left kudos and such lovely comments. I was nervous to write for this fandom; it's definitely a little outside what I normally write (as are sex scenes lol), so it was amazing to have such an awesome out poor of support. I appreciate your patience towards the end of this story, and am sorry that updates ended up so spread out. Hopefully the ending was to your liking. (: 
> 
> I'm hoping to write more for this fandom soon, once my schoolwork slows down a bit, and if you've got anything you'd really like to read, shoot me a message! I love prompts (especially soulmate AUs. they are the way to my heart). Until then, thanks for being so welcoming and it's been a helluva ride.
> 
> Lastly, if anyone is interested, you can find me on tumblr at castiels--grace.

**Author's Note:**

> First ever Warcraft fic! Fell in love with these dumb dumbs pretty much the moment they stepped on screen. I mean, really, what were they expecting us to do when their first interaction is literally Lothar bending him over a desk? 
> 
> Obviously this follows closer to the movie's lore than WoW's, and even then I've definitely branched off. It's about a half step away from an AU, but I couldn't resist. 
> 
> Find me on tumblr: castiels--grace!


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